


Nicotine

by I_Require_Holy_Water



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Abuse, Addiction, Aged-Up Character(s), Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Assault, Blood and Injury, Boys Kissing, Bullying, Death Threats, Dubious Consent, Enemies, Enemies to Lovers, England’s Age Of Consent, Eventual Romance, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Jack’s lowkey hella possessive, Jack’s only nice at night, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Mild descriptions of puke, Neck Kissing, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rivalry, Rough Kissing, Sexual Tension, Smoking, Underage Drinking, Underage Marijuana Use, Very heavy Consent, angst????, extremely consensual, someone forces themselves on Ralph, threatening with a knife
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24789757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Require_Holy_Water/pseuds/I_Require_Holy_Water
Summary: Ralph could see the waves of desire radiating off of the redhead’s body as Jack Merridew trapped him. The older boy’s breath hitched as his lips ghosted against Ralph’s.“God Allebach. You’re worse than nicotine.”
Relationships: Jack Merridew/Ralph (Lord of the Flies)
Comments: 54
Kudos: 115





	1. Restart

-

-

Warm. 

His body was warm. Not uncomfortably, like when you just woke up from a vivid nightmare and sweat sticks the sheer layers of clothing to you. More of a low hum radiating through his body, traveling through every fiber of his being. The tingling sensation engulfed him whole, making Ralph shiver, despite the pleasant waves of heat panging through him. This moment was one he would try to engrave into his brain. He’d never been a fan of sickeningly sweet heat. Ralph began to deter from it entirely upon his return. Something about the thickness in the air when it was humid sent him to dark corners of his mind he was trying to run away from. But one can’t run forever. And this, the warmth, felt nice. 

He could’ve sat in front of the burning embers infinitely. Watching the low glow of the flames crawl up the walls, illuminating the plain wallpaper with showers of golden and fiery red. He could’ve sat there forever, watching the flames devour the wooden logs whole. Watching as the material slowly fell off in chunks of ash. 

But he tore his eyes away, ignoring the persistent hum of protest in his body. Ralph slowly uncrossed his aching legs, bringing himself up off the velvet cushion he had lain across the floor. The fire dwindled, earning a long stare from the fair boy. It was so alive for something that wasn’t living at all. 

“Mr. Allebach.” A cold voice pierced through the comfortable silence Ralph had built around him. It tore him painfully from his own mind and grounded him back on Earth. Back into the dull parlor that was shrouded in darkness besides the soft light reflecting from the fireplace. Perhaps it was for the better that the tall man stood in the doorway, features shown due to the bright end of a cigar that dangled from his lips. The man straightened his jacket, exhaling smoke softly as he pushed the cigar into his fingers. 

“Your father requests your presence tonight.” Ralph took a ragged breath in, pausing momentarily, letting the crushing feeling of no air in his lungs remind him of where he was. Who he was. The dark figure swept across the room, flicking a light switch on, letting the room fill with the yellow glow. The walls that were already so plain in darkness looked positively barren when one could see them all simultaneously. Newspapers on otherwise empty desks were the only knick knack to be seen, if it could even be called that. The fair boy made a move to push the buttoned cushion back into place, but was waved off by the man. 

“Go. I will put the room back in order.” Ralph nodded solemnly, pursing his cracked lips, letting the deep crevices run over each other before retreating out of the parlor. The glass doors creaked when he whisked past, the common sound filling his ears. His father must have needed him for something urgent, or he wouldn’t have summoned Ralph at an hour bordering the beginning of the darkness the night held.

The walk up to his father's office was silent and painful. His bones ached with some sort of desire. Possibly desire for a certain series of words that his father would tell him. It was all Ralph wanted to hear for days, weeks, months. But he pushed any hope flooding into his head to the back, locking it away and throwing the key into a black lake of regret. 

The beige paper decorated with faded roses was lit in certain sections by the dulled flames of wax candles. The melting substance dripped slowly down the metal frame, almost like a skeleton to hold up the stick. Ralph reached out to touch the wax, hissing in pain as the heat burnt his fingertips. Nursing his now reddened fingers, Ralph gently laid 2 knocks on the wooden door that led to the office he’d come to know so well. A muffled voice on the other side let out a giggle, sending a shot of anxiety through his veins.

“Come in.” A calm voice said, not matching the laugh that had just rung through the corridor. His father wasn’t alone. That was painfully obvious. Nonetheless, Ralph turned the intricately carved metal knob and was greeted with the cold glow of moonlight in his father's office. The man in question stood at the generously sized desk, fingertips grazing a stack of ruffled papers, all of which had writing scrawled lazily on them. 

As for the other voice, it belonged to a middle aged woman. She had chestnut brown hair with grey sneaking into certain strands. Smile lines decorated her milky white skin, making her appearance ethereal in the light of the moon. In addition to every other aspect of her, she had glowing blue eyes that Ralph couldn’t seem to look away from. She gave the fair boy a warm smile before walking over to meet his father, heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

“Son. This is Mrs. Martin. She will be the one who picks you up tomorrow to take you to Beaminster.” Ralph’s ocean blue eyes widened in shock, his brain not fully processing the crisp words that had left his father’s lips. _Beaminster_. The school he’d been pestering his father to let him transfer to for all those months. He was finally going to leave this dark and dreary mansion. 

“You mentioned something about your friend Peter going there. I looked into it and I agree, a Christian school is definitely what’s best for you.” His father’s calloused fingers straightened the stack of floppy papers, grunting slightly as they folded over on each other. The man grabbed a paper clip and slid it gracefully on the upper edge of the assortment of what Ralph could only assume was acceptance sheets. The fair boy stiffened his body, trying his hardest not to show any relief or euphoria in the presence of his father. When he was dismissed to his room, he’d celebrate. For now, the fair boy rooted his feet in place and kept the edges of his lips as straight as he could. 

“Thank you for taking into consideration my choice, father.” Ralph’s voice was broken, cracking at the end of his sentence. The boy just cleared his throat quickly, earning himself a look of disapproval from the older man standing in front of him. The woman on his left either didn’t notice or didn’t seem to be bothered, swiftly taking the sheets from Ralph’s father and placing them in the black purse strewn across her shoulder. Her hardened gaze met the fair boy’s and the color shifted from an icy blue to a softer, baby blue. She pressed her lips together in a hard line, rubbing in the red pigment smeared across them. 

“Mr. Allebach I will arrive at 8 am sharp. You and your belongings should be present at the base of your driveway. I highly suggest you bring some sort of entertainment, the drive is 20 minutes.” Ralph’s father dismissed the boy with a sharp wave of his hand, leaning over Mrs. Martin’s shoulder and whispered something softly into her ear. She nodded, as if the woman had understood what he informed her of before the words had passed through the older man’s lips. Maybe she had. Curiosity tinged in the back of his brain, but Ralph chose to ignore the pull of desire for the unspoken knowledge and gently shut the towering dark oak door, suddenly coming face to face with the swirled design, clearly carved with a delicate hand. The dulled pain from the burn on his finger returned, reminding him of the first layer of skin that had been singed off.

The teenage boy took a cautious step back, breathing lightly so his father wouldn’t hear the noise and assume he had been eavesdropping. Ralph crept back down the hall, elongated red runner stretching for what seemed to be miles down the dark corridor. The fabric was plush, melting and molding to fit the creases of Ralph’s tattered Converse, submerging the dirt stained rubber rim entirely. The soft decoration muffled the steps the boy was taking, as if it was telling him that he needed to be quiet, as the house was asleep. 

The old grandfather clock at the T section of the hall struck the hour, signaling it was 22:00. A familiar clink of heels followed the obnoxiously loud chime, sending Ralph speeding down the hall and to the door that led to his room. The footsteps slowly disappeared down to the other end of the hall, a heavy pair trailing after. The fair boy decided to sleep on it, knowing he’d have to wake up and go to the school that his father forbade him from for too long. A sliver of him had hope that he’d be free from some restrictions usually burdened upon his shoulders and get some time to relax. Maybe even meet a lass. 

The more he thought about it, the more repulsive the idea of meeting a special someone felt. Just the mere image of his lips brushing lightly against someone else’s that eventually turned into a hungry need for each other made his stomach turn in disgust. Ever since the island, he’d seen humans in a different way. He’d begun to believe that every human was inherently evil and hungry for power. No, not hungry. Starving. People craved the feeling of being above all the rest. Of having control over everything. They craved it so badly they would go to any and every extent to achieve it. 

Ralph felt his tongue run over the cracked portion of his lips, leaving a humming feeling of pain where saliva met dried blood. He swallowed hard, pushing his body to ignore the tightening feeling in his chest. His breathing quickened at an alarming rate before spiking back down to the slow and controlled rhythm he had before Ralph let himself remember that god forsaken island. The warning drum that pounded in his ears faded into the background, replaced with the sound of tires hitting asphalt. 

He longed for the feeling of exhaustion to hit him, it was later than he’d anticipated being up and the day had dragged on, eventually guiding him to the fireplace in the parlor. Instead, his body cried out for the sting of cold air hitting his cheeks, reminding him that he hadn’t died on the dry sand that day. However, no matter how much he wanted to deny it, a part of him had. A part of him was trapped within the coast of the humid air and thick forest. And he desperately wanted it back. 

  
  
  


Ralph decided that pulling on his night clothes and staring at the ceiling would suffice for the next couple of hours. It was painfully boring, counting all the cracks and raised areas. But it took his mind off of anything else but the steadily increasing number of small divots in the left corner. He reached his hand out slowly, mapping out the small bumps with his fingers, which looked abnormally pale in the blue glow of the moon. The small moles that decorated his skin grew dark, appearing almost black instead of the brown they usually looked like. The mark that rested on the base of his right ring finger held a splattered appearance, like he was a canvas that someone had accidentally spilled paint on.

Almost out of instinct, he began to count the freckles that were strewn across his skin, never in clumps. The fair boy had small spots on his skin, not moles but not quite freckles. Just little brown marks across his skin. The boy ended up counting 43 freckles before falling into a dreamless slumber. 

  
  
  


Ralph awoke to the screeching sound of curtains being dragged along metal poles. His first instinct was to cover his ears with his palms, filling the area with the unsettling warmth of his hands. 

“Mr. Allebach, you have 2 hours before Mrs. Martin will arrive to take you to Beaminster. Your uniform is laid out next to the shower, please bathe immediately so you can have a final breakfast with your father.” The woman in front of him dusted her charcoal stained hands against the white apron wrapped tightly around her waist. The fabric stained grey, finger smudges strikingly obvious. The woman’s face flushed a deep shade of pink, quickly exiting his room, almost as if she had made a mistake and was going to be punished. Perhaps she had, Ralph wouldn’t know. He wasn’t exactly one to believe sudden gestures could be immoral or wrong, unlike his father. The fair boy figured he shouldn’t keep the man waiting and gently removed the thin wool blanket that someone, most likely the woman from before, had laid across his body. It was scratchy, leaving white lines behind on the bare parts of his skin. Ralph gently sat the blue fabric on the edge of his bed, folding it upon itself so the maids would have one less thing to stress over. 

He bathed quickly, trying not to stare at his own soft figure before pulling the uniform on, one garment at a time. The deep navy of the jacket made his eyes appear stormy, like a ticking bomb that could explode at any moment. Ralph just shoved the sudden darker appearance of his eyes to the side and straightened the red and navy tie hanging around his neck. There was no doubt about it, Ralph didn’t look like the boy he thought he was. He looked much more formal, almost as if he had been attending private schools his whole life and never seen what the blue eyes looking back at him had. The fair boy’s throat tightened as the memories flooded his mind, clouding over any rational thoughts he could possibly have. The distant smell of smoke from a signal fire, low groans in the throats of young boys, unaware of what was to come, howls in the darkness coming from a boy who was slowly losing his sanity, the screams of tortured children gradually involuntarily letting go of their innocence.

The clock chimed, grounding the fair boy and reminding him that he had a meal to attend to. He might not eat a healthy amount, but his father wouldn’t bat an eye. He was fully aware that when the fair boy chose not to eat it was because he had just recovered from another episode. Sometimes the older man showed sympathy for his son, gently tucking a strand of his sandy blond hair behind his ear and softly telling him that he was okay and right where he needed to be. Other times, he’d huff in annoyance, ranting about how the young boy needed to move on and take control of his life. Luckily, today was the former. Ralph gently dragged the dining chair across from his father back, mumbling excuses about returning to the island. The man nodded solemnly, sending a look of worry his son’s way. Ralph gave him a small smile, corners of his mouth upturning in an anxious way. Almost as if the younger boy was scared of making the wrong face and angering his father. 

“The school provides you with a roommate. One boy. I requested you be in a dorm, alone.” His father’s words were crisp, with no room for an argument from Ralph. “I figured it would help keep your. . . condition a secret for now.” 

The fair boy understood what his father was trying to imply behind the cold words and painfully sharp edge to his voice. Ralph had been suffering from night terrors ever since his return, the memories coming back to haunt him until he woke up screaming, sheets tangled around his legs, trapping him in the tight twist of fabric. 

No, he’d never thought of the nights where he couldn’t close his eyes in fear as normal. Ralph had never heard of a boy his age who suffered so endlessly once the sun sank below the horizon. Somehow, he persisted through the cold sweats and fingernail marks digging into his palms. He hadn’t really thought about how the flashbacks would affect his life in a stay away school. He tried not to think of them most times, straying away from the island in the hours in which he wandered about, serving no purpose in cruel honesty. 

“I believe that is the best choice father.” Ralph pressed his lips together until it was painful, slowly releasing and letting the plush skin return to its original form. 

“Katrina will be here soon. You are dismissed.” With a wave of a calloused hand, Ralph had pushed back the wood chair he was seated in and exited the dining room, a pit of emptiness in his stomach growing steadily. He couldn’t help the growing shakiness to his usually calm stance. His hands had begun to tremble wildly, forcing the fair boy to swallow despite the lump in his throat. 

  
  
  


He settled on waiting at the end of the pavement, fingers tracing over the bones in his kneecap, a tattered brown suitcase’s corner pressing into his ribcage. His torn nails found the edge of a sticker plastered sloppily on the beige fabric, picking at it softly. The sticker itself was from Venice, the famous city drawn in the light of the setting sun. Most likely then mass produced to help make revenue. Faded words were printed on the white edges, illegible as time had worn them down. Nimble fingers moved to the leather handle, one that was hanging on just barely by a metal bar. Ralph traced the brand label printed on the case, carefully examining each divot thoroughly. 

The fair boy shivered, knowing this wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be thinking this way about a couple pieces of fabric. He couldn’t help but believe this was how other, normal people, thought about their significant other. Exploring every crevice like it was the most important thing in the world to them. Like it was all that mattered in that moment. 

“Mr. Allebach. If you’ve finished caressing your suitcase like a lover, we can get ready to leave.” Ralph felt his face flush, making Mrs. Martin let out a small chuckle. His mother used to tell him when he blushed his face turned a pretty shade of pink. 

The fair boy stuttered out an apology, gathering his belongings and handing them to a burly man, who stuffed them in the back of a black vehicle. Ralph had seen cars like this in movies, ones such as James Bond, but had never really set foot in one before. Not that he’d ever really been in a car. The boy took the bus most days, suffering in silence as some old man who smelled suspiciously of sweet perfume tried to worm his way into a younger woman’s pants. He would let his tired legs become exhausted as he held onto the pole so tightly his knuckles became white. 

“Ma’am, am I supposed to..?” Ralph let his question remain unfinished, Mrs. Martin smiling brightly at his implication. The man beside her cleared his throat loudly, making his way to the driver’s side of the car.

“You may enter the car Mr. Allebach. I’m assuming you’re not quite used to luxury?” Ralph shook his head no in small movements. Despite living in what most considered to be a mansion, he spent the majority of his time locked away in his room or staring at the fire in the parlor. The house felt like it consisted of those two rooms alone, as the rest of the rooms were forbidden to him. 

The interior of the vehicle was a cool grey, seats warmed from the heat the sun was providing. Mrs. Martin slid in the seat in front of him, facing the boy. 

“If you have any questions, please ask. My son attends Beaminster as well, so he can answer things as well.” Ralph nodded, wondering if she was going to tell him who her son was. It’d be quite difficult to find the boy with no name given to him.

“He’s the son of my first husband. Our last names aren’t the same, obviously. As I remarried.” The lady stared at the window, tears forming in her eyes. The name of her son hit Ralph like a ton of bricks to the chest. 

“Jack Merridew.” 


	2. Mistakes

_ When we’re young, we think that Love and Hate live on opposite sides of the street from one another,  _

_ But as we get older we realise they’re actually next door neighbors with paper thin walls.  _

**_Ranata Suzuki_ **

-

-

  
  


Ralph didn’t speak a word for the rest of the drive up to Beaminster. A part of it was that he didn’t want the woman in front of him to recognize the fair boy from the day every kid rejoined their family. He didn’t want the woman to recognize the boy who’d been crying so hard and screamed at her son that he was a heartless monster, one with no room in his poisoned mind for empathy. 

However, a part of him was in so much shock it felt like someone was pressing on his chest with their body weight. The mere thought of seeing Merridew again sent his head reeling, quickened the shaky beat of his heart, and made him shiver down to the bone. His memory had fogged over as the years passed. Ralph just barely remembered the boy’s flaming red hair moving uncontrollably in the wind as he fought with Ralph over and over. A never ending cycle of disagreements, eventually leading to the final snap.

“We’ve arrived Mr. Allebach. If you could follow me, I’ll have Mr. Burrows deliver your belongings to your dorm. Unless you would like to take it yourself, subsequently missing the tour of the school. Take your pick.” The fair boy glanced into the icy eyes of Mrs. Martin, seeing the resemblance to her sons and wondering how he hadn’t noticed it before. Something about her seemed off. Almost as if she was too. . . kind to be related to Merridew. The way her expression melted into one Ralph couldn’t quite place whenever she looked at him. So out of pure respect for this woman, and the way she appeared to look at him with unconditional love, he chose to go on the tour. 

“I think I would benefit from seeing the school in its entirety ma’am. As much as I’d love to bring my own items to my room, I would much rather not get lost on the way to class.” Mrs. Martin’s face erupted in a smile, one that was dangerously contagious. The corners of her red lipstick were smeared ever so slightly, but just made her look unexplainably happier. The corners of Ralph’s mouth begged to lift up, but the fair boy kept his composure and settled for a curt nod, making the woman’s smile falter. She shook her head, mouth resting back in its usual position of a straight line. 

“Please follow me Mr. Allebach. There is much to see and only 30 minutes until your second class begins.” Mrs. Martin’s figure slowly began walking towards a brick building, one that looked as if it had been built in the 1800s. Knowing Beaminster, it most likely had been. The dark red brick had chunks taken out, fingernails scratches decorating the sides and burn marks pressed into the clay, most likely from cigarettes. Black spots made from old gum were shoved in the grout, making Ralph’s stomach turn.

What was more gut churning, nausea inducing, and overall petrifying was the boy leaning up against it. 

He had the same copper red hair Ralph remembered, turning bright red in the light of the sun. Memories flooded the fair boy’s mind, drowning out any rationality he had left. Ralph felt his legs shake, not knowing if he was going to be able to make it the whole way without collapsing in the abnormally green grass. Perhaps he would throw up what little breakfast he had before they could even reach Merridew. Perhaps he would pass out, it  _ had _ happened before. 

“Mr. Allebach, your face is quite pale. Are you alright?” Ralph tried to open his mouth to answer, but was frozen in place. He tried swallowing, knowing his mouth was dry, but nothing came of it. The same vile taste remained on his tongue as the lanky boy standing in front of them opened his icy eyes, scanning over Ralph’s body with a clear expression of disgust. And just like that, the fair boy couldn’t breathe. He felt trapped under Merridew’s gaze, like the redhead was playing some sick game in which Ralph was his puppet. 

“Ralph?” The now concerned voice of the woman on his right broke whatever spell Merridew had put him under. The fair boy tore his gaze away from the boy on the wall, ocean blue eyes meeting a pair of now stunned ones. 

“You’re Ralph Allebach. The boy on the island.” Mrs. Martin looked mortified, face twisted in sympathy and horror. Ralph just shook his head yes, forcing his eyes to stay locked on her and not her son. It would be a dream come true if he never had to look at Merridew again. If he never had to see those empty eyes staring into his own, he’d be just fine. If he got to walk the streets of London without seeing things that reminded him of a nightmare, he wouldn’t complain. Not that he made people note his distaste for the memories. He kept his mouth shut most days, not wanting to plague his father's mind with his own grotesque flashbacks. It was an unspoken rule. Don’t mention Merridew or anything to do with that situation unless his father brought it up first. 

Merridew himself hadn’t actually appeared too affected by seeing Ralph. Perhaps his mother had told him about the fair boy’s arrival, he was positive she must’ve. Ralph could imagine perfectly how their conversation went. It had most likely spiraled down into an argument, one which the boy his age had won. On the small off chance it got physical, Merridew would’ve beaten his mother by a landslide. She was too petite and obviously cared deeply about her son. In a way Ralph didn’t think anyone could care about the closest thing to an incarnation of the Devil. But the fair boy shoved down his hate for Merridew and addressed his mother with as much respect as he could muster while cold eyes traced him up and down.

“Yes ma’am I am. We have a tour to continue though and I would hate to lose my way on my first day. May we move on?” The older woman nodded, oddly professional as she whispered something into Merridew’s ear, earning a sneer from the boy. Ralph couldn’t imagine treating his mother that way, not that she was around for him to treat any way anymore. However, that level of disrespect would’ve earned him a swift smack from her. 

The fair boy chose to ignore the ignorance of Jack Merridew and began to trail after his mother. There was only one issue with that, and it was the fact that Merridew now had a rough grip on Ralph’s upper arm, fingers pushing so hard into his flesh that the fair boy was certain he’d be bruised. 

“This is your warning Allebach. Don’t get in my way and you’ll be just fine. Fuck with me and you’re done.” Ralph swallowed hard, trying to ignore the shakiness of his tone.

“With all due respect Merridew, I have a tour to go on. So please release my arm.” The redhead let out a low growl from the back of his throat, shoving the smaller one forward, almost sending Ralph toppling to the ground. The beast’s mother stood there, a small frown playing on her lips as the fair boy dusted off his jacket, gaze focused on the area ahead of him. And with that, he chose to leave Merridew to wallow in his own foolish anger, walking away with his chin up to seem more confident than he actually felt. Because if nobody had been there to see him, Ralph would’ve crumpled to the ground, hyperventilating, and cried until his eyes were raw. That wasn’t an option with the icy cold eyes of Jack Merridew watching his every move.

  
  
  


The tour went surprisingly smoothly, with the obvious exception of a couple nasty remarks from Merridew thrown his mother’s way. The redhead trailed behind the other two, scowling for the entire trip, making it painfully clear he was only there to see smiles falter, tears well up in eyes, and people collapse on the floor, too scared to even move. 

The last place on the map of the school was the library, the one place Ralph was actually excited to see. Other classrooms had all appeared the same, dreary walls lined with sad attempts of posters to cheer students up. It was all the same cramped desks, chairs set a little too close to each other so the students' elbows would just barely be touching. It was the same exact room, like it had been copied and pasted over and over again. 

That’s not what the library was like. It was lined with windows, sunlight streaming into the huge area, brightening the place more than anywhere else on the entire campus. Small study spaces lined the walls, where students sat laughing with one another, forgetting the cruel reality of the world and fading into bliss with their friends. The bookshelves were ginormous, almost reaching parts of the domed ceiling. Comfy looking armchairs with small tables sat in the corner, just for people to sit back and relax in. But the best part of all of the entire space was the smell. There was no way to describe it besides the scent of old book pages. The little bookshelves Ralph had at home weren’t full enough to cause a smell. Not that he was allowed to have more than 50 books. His father had deemed reading too feminine and unless the book was nonfiction, it was banned from Ralph’s eyes.

All in all, Ralph felt some sort of unexplainable happiness when he first stepped foot into the library. Like the possibilities were now endless. Of course, Merridew had to rain all over his short lasting parade. With a rough shove, he was now in front of Ralph, pride written all over his hideous face. It took all the strength in his body to not tear his eyes away from the redhead’s, but he managed to keep his head held high. Jack opened his mouth to speak, most likely a string of insults, but his mother cut him off before he could even get a word in.

“This is the area most kids study. Your father told me that you’re quite the scholar so I suppose you’ll be here quite often.” Ralph wasn’t shocked to hear that his father had mentioned he was intelligent. He actually took pride in his son’s successes, which made a warm feeling bubble up in Ralph’s chest. The fair boy only did so well in online school because he wanted something to distract him. He found comfort in trigonometry problems and old literature. It could be because all of that information had been proven, was perfectly preserved in stone, and wasn’t some made up scenarios from a human’s mind. Old texts about the life of William Shakespeare were based entirely on facts. 

Ralph just nodded silently, which was how he responded to most of the things Mrs. Martin said. He was scared to open his mouth and say something wrong. Petrified by the fear that people had beat into him involuntarily. Because if he was wrong, he wasn’t perfect. And if he wasn’t perfect, he let people down. So he kept his opinions to himself, moved forward and showed respect to the woman older and wiser than him.

“Cat got your tongue Allebach?” The mocking tone Merridew was using made Ralph’s blood boil. The smaller boy settled on taking a long inhale, letting his anger subside and giving the redhead a glare, but no response. Sure, he was kind of proving Merridew’s point that he was refusing to talk but at least he didn’t get the reaction he had wanted. In fact, Merridew looked, dare Ralph even  _ think  _ it, upset. He appeared to be disappointed he didn’t draw a snappy comment from the blond boy. The reaction made Ralph a little more confident in himself, knowing he won a small battle in what he knew would be a long war.

“Jack. Please. The tour is over now so you may go run about with Mr. Volkov and Mr. Bellomo.” Ralph didn’t recognize the people the surnames belonged to, but did recognize the origin. Maybe years of studying random surnames did pay off. Volkov meant ‘wolf’ and Bellomo meant ‘beautiful and fair man.’ The first one had Russian roots and the second had Italian. Ralph couldn’t imagine any of Merridew’s friends with a last name like Bellomo, seeing as none of them were extraordinarily attractive. Merridew made a noise that sounded like something ready to pounce on its prey before spinning on his heel and obnoxiously walking away. Ralph mentally noted that even Roger could have the last name Bellomo and it’d be more accurate than Merridew having it. 

“I would recommend keeping your distance with my son and his friends. Mr. Volkov has a record with more red ink on it than any student here. It’s a shock to the entire staff that he hasn’t been expelled yet. I suppose Mr. Bellomo is slightly better, but still is quick to jump into a fight. Your father mentioned you knowing Peter Curtis. He’s one of the main targets. Simon Cortés and Sam and Eric Pinch are also known to have endured a couple years of abuse for standing with Peter. Just be careful, alright?” Ralph pressed his lips together in a fine line, knowing the words he was about to say were going to severely let the concerned woman in front of him down.

“With all due respect ma’am, I can’t stand by and watch my friends get hurt. If that means I have to stand up to your son, so be it. I am willing to get my hands dirty to help others.”


	3. We All Hear Things

-

-

  
  


When Ralph said he was willing to help others, he wasn’t quite sure what he was getting himself into. However, the look on Mrs. Martin’s face said it all. Of course Ralph hadn’t expected it to be an easy fight. Merridew was merciless, brutal, and unpredictable. Verbal attacks were to be expected, this  _ was  _ Merridew, but the redhead got physical in random bursts. There had never been a sign. There probably never would be. 

“Mr. Allebach. While I admire your. . . passion for keeping your friends safe, my son is not one to meddle with. He may be a favorite of the teachers, but I highly suggest that you keep your distance. For your own safety. I would hate to see you in my office with him because he destroyed that face of yours.” Blood rushed to Ralph’s face when the woman’s implied compliment that he had a nice face hit him. He’d heard it before, mostly on the island. The little boys thought he had it all appearance wise. Before his view of himself crumpled like a piece of paper in a grown mans hand, he would’ve thought the same. He  _ had _ thought the same. Ralph had seen himself as perfect, intelligent, and extremely strong. Both physically and mentally. But now, he knew he was nothing. All of those things had washed away like loose dirt during a flood. Perhaps in another, better, world the plane never crashed. Perhaps his view of himself was the same narcissistic view he’d had up until the incident. But this world was not that one.

“I’d like to think I can handle myself, ma’am. But I will try my best to stay out of trouble.” The older woman nodded solemnly, pressing her lips together as if she was trying to hide something from him. Almost like she knew something he didn’t. Maybe she did, Ralph didn’t choose to dwell on it because right as Mrs. Martin opened her mouth to speak again, a familiar face approached them, a stack of books piled up in his arms. Brown eyes widened behind a new pair of specs, the sight of Ralph causing the boy to come very close to dropping his books. Peter Curtis didn’t seem to believe the person in front of him was real. 

“Hello Mr. Curtis. I was about to send Mr. Allebach over to you. He’s seen the whole school, but I would deeply appreciate it if you could fill him in on some of the subjects in depth. I have important matters to attend to.” Ralph faced the boy he once knew as Piggy, unsure of exactly what to say. The now all too familiar click of heels registered in his mind as Mrs. Martin walked away, speaking to the librarian as she exited the glass room. 

Peter seemed just as lost for words as Ralph, as he opened his mouth and closed it a couple of times before settling on words to say. “Your father accepted your request to transfer?” 

“I s'pose.” Ralph replied, fidgeting with the edge of the navy blazer he was given that morning. Everybody looked so painfully similar, the only difference being the faces above the mandatory uniforms. Even the lasses wore the same shirts, the only difference being knee length skirts and mary jane shoes. Faces had already begun to blend together in his mind, but the softer face in front of him stood out like a beam of light in the darkness. If he was being logical, there could’ve been multiple reasons why. It could be because he knew Peter from the island. He was someone Ralph had encountered before, unlike the majority of the student body. Maybe it was because he missed him, the past years had made Ralph desperate to see another human being. However, a part of him longed to believe it was because Peter could help fix him. And if that was the case, why did Merridew’s image have the same effect on Ralph? 

A long pause ensued, both boys too nervous to speak to the other. Despite both desperately wanting to comment on something, anything. Even small talk would’ve been less awkward than the silence that shrouded them. 

“Simon and the twins are roaming the building right now. I’m sure they’ll be ecstatic to see you. The twins have become real troublemakers, just so you know. ‘S probably best if you stay out of their shenanigans.” The fair boy nodded, trying to ignore Peter cough and push his specs up, a gesture the boy made when he was nervous.

“Have they changed very much? The twins and Simon, I mean.” Peter shrugged, placing the stack of books in his arms on the nearest table, shaking out his hands after they were safely stable on the wooden surface. “I suppose Simon is almost exactly the same, give or take a few scars. Sam is less devious than Eric, and usually absorbs himself with other things. He does participate in a couple of the pranks though. Eric has more of a fire to him, he’s been trying to stand up to Merridew, but they have a strength advantage so he doesn’t last long.”

It hurt Ralph to hear that they’d been so helpless against Merridew, but he’d always have a strength advantage. For someone who looked about as thin as a stick in Ralph’s backyard, he was abnormally strong. The redhead used to be able to pin the fair boy down in seconds, no struggle needed. Of course, instead of taking the huge blow to his ego, Ralph convinced himself that he’d  _ let  _ the savage take him to the ground, wrists pinned behind him as he wriggled helplessly in the savage’s grasp. 

Now, he was different. He knew who to avoid and who to mingle with. Who he could beat and who he’d lose to almost instantaneously. But whenever Merridew’s cocky grin showed up somewhere, his blood boiled. Even the mention of the redhead would send his anger flaring. Despite knowing he would never win.

“I’ll try my hardest to help you Peter. But Merridew has always been,” Ralph inhaled, choosing his next words with caution in case the savage overheard them, “problematic. On a similar note, I’ll be the first to tell you that I’m not the same boy that I used to be. I… don’t know if I can be of much help to you.” Peter inhaled sharply, soft chocolate brown eyes meeting ocean blue ones. 

“Any help is better than no help.”

  
  
  
  


Ralph quickly learned who to avoid, who to befriend, and who to just simply ignore. All thanks to Peter, who made a list of people for Ralph. The fair boy also figured out who Mr. Volkov and Mr. Bellomo were. Roger and Maurice. It honestly didn’t shock Ralph too much that Roger was Volkov. Mrs. Martin has mentioned him having more red ink on his record than any student, which fit the mental portrait Ralph had painted of him. Peter also informed him that Robert, Bill, Walter, and Henry went to this school, and followed Merridew like ducklings. 

However, Ralph spent most of the conversation figuring out little details about Merridew. The more he knew, the better. According to his friend, the redhead was generally well liked by teachers, except those who caught him. He had been on honor roll for the past 2 years, earning him some sort of respect from the principal. But apparently he’d adopted some less than ideal habits. Such as smoking, engaging fights, and other things Ralph could see someone as dark as him doing. Not to mention he had an attitude only the devil himself would be proud of. 

“Addiction?” The words passed Ralph’s lips without the boy really thinking about them, but he immediately clamped a hand over his mouth in horror. He hadn’t meant to ask such a personal question to someone who wasn’t even Merridew. Perhaps he would’ve asked the redhead if he truly  _ was  _ addicted to nicotine, but not Peter. It wasn’t his place to tell, and even if he knew, why would he tell Ralph?

“Nobody’s sure. I think it’s safe to say there’s a possibility of one.” Peter cleaned off his specs on his shirt, face flushing under the sudden pressure of Ralph’s question. Guilt began to eat at him as he apologized profusely, only to be dismissed politely by the brunette in front of him. 

“ ‘S quite alright Ralph. I know you didn’t mean it like that…” Peter trailer off, most likely thinking the same words now flashing in Ralph’s head. Did Ralph actually care if Merridew had an addiction? It was quite possible. It only took a small amount of sympathy to be worried about something as drastic as that. What really struck Ralph as odd was that he cared about Merridew. The scum of the Earth. He  _ cared  _ about whether the savage had an addiction or not. Even the thought repulsed him. The fair boy tried his hardest to shake the feeling off, an empty hole in his stomach growing steadily as he tried to draw his mind away from the redhead.

“Where are the twins and Simon? I haven’t seen them at all.” Ralph tried his hardest to break through the awkward situation he’d caused, seeming to succeed as Peter responded with the calm voice the fair boy had become so accustomed to.

“Simon takes early courses and the twins are studying in the morning. Somehow they always have a test they haven’t reviewed for. You’ll probably see them in the cafeteria once lunch rolls around. I meant what I said, by the way. I’m sure all three of them will be excited to see you.” Some sort of warm feeling bubbled in Ralph’s chest, but he chose to nod quietly, like he’d been taught. Sure, his lack of speech annoyed some folks, but he’d been raised to be polite and respectful once he got back from the island, traits he would be more than satisfied with keeping. 

Thankfully, Peter understood his lack of words and returned the gesture, collecting some loose papers he’d taken out to write notes down on. “Merridew and his gang are bound to be in at least one of your classes. Just be wary around them. They cause nothing but trouble.”

Ralph nodded, hoping deep down that the number of classes he shared with the red haired devil would be less than 2. In the best mental scenario Ralph had made, he had no classes with Merridew in them. Not a single one. His year would be peaceful, except for maybe a few encounters in the long corridors. He would avoid Merridew like he carried the Black Plague and Merridew would avoid him like he was some untreatable illness nobody had heard of yet. It was far from a perfect world, but it’d be enough for him to survive his first year at Beaminster.

Worst case scenario, he had more than 3 classes with the savage. It would be endless torment, Merridew constantly throwing snide remarks and always shooting him smirks that would make Ralph’s stomach lurch. He’d know exactly where Ralph was going next, he’d know when to strike. He’d use his physical strength as an advantage and hurt Ralph until he begged for mercy. If that living hell were to ever happen to him, Ralph wouldn’t make it through the year. He’d most likely be dead by spring. 

For Peter’s sake, he threw on a painfully fake smile, one he’d perfected over the years, and promised the chubby boy he’d stay away from Merridew. The fair boy felt awful, but he knew deep down there was no way. No way the savage would be able to stop himself from sinking his teeth into Ralph. No way he’d be able to contain himself as he tore Ralph apart, from the inside out. It was just who he was. The savage couldn’t help it.

  
  
  


Ralph ended up going to his first class at 9 am, one he quickly learned he shared with Simon. Not only did he have Simon in his class, he also had Merridew and Roger. He found himself shaking as the two walked in. Merridew’s devilish gaze met Ralph’s and the fair boy looked away quickly, trying not to stare. But he could feel the amusement radiating off of the redhead’s body from all the way across the room.

Roger didn’t appear much different than Ralph remembered. Same raven hair and emotionless eyes. It probably didn’t stop there. If he had made a correct assumption, which he was almost certain he had, the boy still retained his unholy craving for blood. 

Simon’s body tensed beside him, but he kept steady eye contact with the front of the room before whispering in Ralph’s ear. “Merridew’s smirking at you. Did you do something? Or is he just trying to mess with you?” 

“When isn’t he trying to mess with me?” Simon let out a small laugh, scrawling perfectly sized letters down onto a sheet of paper he laid out onto the plastic table. The tan boy had always been abnormally perfect. He was the voice of reason, and the most innocent boy on the island. He was kind to others, despite being called batty and mostly ignored by everyone there, including Ralph. 

“Don’t worry about it Ralph. I’m sure you’ll grow on him. He’s not as cruel anymore. Not that Merridew’s temper is fantastic with me. I do get scolded quite a bit, mainly because he’s got power. But he scolds everyone. I s'pose he had a change of heart.”

“I’ve heard otherwise.” 

“Yes well, we all hear things. Whether they’re true or not.” 


	4. Initiation

-

-

**_“One Minute I held the key, next the walls were closed on me.”_ **

**_Viva La Vida, Coldplay_ **

-

-

  
  


Simon's words echoed in Ralph’s head for the rest of the hour and 15 minute long class. The teacher’s monotone drawl should’ve, and if he hadn’t been so immersed in his thoughts he was sure it  _ would’ve _ , sent him right to sleep. Under normal circumstances, Ralph knew he’d have covered his head with the uncomfortable fabric of his blazer in a sad attempt to send himself to sleep by now. But this wasn’t normal. The fair boy was sure he’d never thought about someone else’s words as much as he thought of that sentence. Other people’s opinions had gone over his head when he was younger, he didn’t dwell on what they thought. All he knew was that he had a say and that was the most important one. When he returned, he didn’t seem to think about what others said to him. For the opposite reason this time. He knew his opinion didn’t matter, so why bother even giving an input. Just smile and nod, like he’d been taught. Smile and nod until your face aches and the muscles in your neck scream to take a break.

For some reason, Ralph’s mind refused to just dismiss his friend’s words and unraveled them, then knit them back together in a poorly stitched fashion. Had Peter lied to him unintentionally? Merridew certainly appeared to not have changed very much since the island. His skin was still decorated with the same cluster of freckles, mouth twisting to form the power hungry smirk Ralph had nightmares about so often. But perhaps Simon was right. Ralph was judging from what he saw on the surface. 

Who was he kidding, Ralph knew exactly what was underneath the redhead’s cold exterior. An even colder heart. One with no room for the kind of sympathy that came so easily to a normal human being. Because Jack Merridew wasn’t a normal human being. He was a sociopathic. And he was a bomb. He exploded whenever he felt like it, damaging everyone around him. Except those who have calculated when he’ll blow. Those who assess his every move, his every interaction, his every word. Only they knew when the savage would explode. 

  
  
  
  


Ralph had one more class before lunch. One he didn’t share with any of Jack’s crew. While he was relieved about that, he didn’t share the class with any of the boys he’d familiarized himself with. Ralph had just sat at the desk, legs a little too cramped for a boy who stood at only 5’10, ignoring those around him like he’d done before. The class itself wasn’t too mind numbing. He didn’t learn much, but he wasn’t tempted to fall asleep in the middle of the professor’s lecture. Instead, he took a small amount of notes and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. 

Ralph knew by now to trust his gut. But every time, he pushed that instinct to the side and pushed through whatever he had to do. And every time it ended in disaster with his gut being right. It was an endless loop of the fair boy not trusting himself. One day he’d learn. One day, something so awful would happen he’d trust his gut from then on. Today was not that day. Ralph chose to follow the sea of students, navy blazers and dark pants melting together as the student body migrated over to the cafeteria.

There was only one way Ralph could describe the place without referencing a smell so bad it’d make even the toughest person feel sick to their stomach. It reeked of fake meat and sweaty bodies. It suffocated Ralph and suddenly the fair boy was extremely pleased with the option of eating in the courtyard. If he’d even eat. His recent schedule had been so jam packed he usually skipped lunch. It wasn’t important to him anyways. He didn’t see a point in three major meals. Split lunch into two heavy snacks and don’t have the meal. It was more logical to Ralph. He eventually decided on ditching lunch and ducking out of the metal door that led outside.

The courtyard probably felt 5 times better than it actually was because it offered fresh air to Ralph and even though students were screaming at their friends, everything felt more open. There were more places to run in case he got into trouble. As for now, his main goal was to find one of his four friends. He had a feeling they’d find him first, as he was stumbling around like a lost puppy. Hopefully they’d find him before Merridew did. Ralph didn’t want to imagine what kind of hell the savage had planned. Ralph had no intention of setting the redhead’s tactics into motion early, so he settled on standing in the corner where two brick walls met, eyes scanning the grass lined area for a familiar face. He’d even take Mrs. Martin at this point. 

But just as he’d grown to know, his gut was right. The only recognizable face was the now devilish grin of Jack Merridew. Ralph could see the intent behind the seemingly nice expression. He could see the hunger in the icy blue eyes. He could see the devil begging to be let out, banging on the sides of Merridew’s skull. He was trapped. Like a lamb to the slaughter. He had nowhere to go, his only option being to obey Merridew. Like a dog. He couldn’t even keep his chin up. Ralph was heavily outnumbered, counting the boys near the savage. He recognized some of them, such as Roger, Maurice and Bill, but others were new faces to him. Perhaps they wouldn’t follow the redhead. Instead of watching them and waiting for the ones with power to make the first move, Ralph found his feet and walked back into the cafeteria. He knew they’d follow him. He wasn’t an idiot. But maybe, by the grace of God, he’d find someone to save him. 

  
  
  


That didn’t happen. Ralph wandered aimlessly, feeling the piercing gaze of someone on him, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. But every time he turned around, nobody was there. It was almost as if the person could just disappear right in front of his eyes. 

He ended up finding himself in a long hallway, a restroom to his right and a broom closet to his left. Ralph wasn’t sure if he had time to weigh the options, but he tried to as quickly as possible nonetheless. The broom closet offered a tight space, which was both an advantage and disadvantage. The bathroom was more open, making him an easier target. But he could also hide behind a locked stall door.

Ralph didn’t get time to pick before a sharp pain hit the back of his skull, sending him toppling to the cold tile. Ringing echoed in his head as he tried to process what just hit him and what it had caused. Probably just a bruise but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe that it wasn’t Merridew and that it was the last thing the devil had planned for him. Just as the thought crossed his mind, another sharp pain shot through his side. Ralph winced, losing stability and falling to the ground. He made a mental note that the tile wasn’t exactly comfortable.

“You’re still just as weak as I remember Allebach.” Merridew spat, grabbing the base of Ralph’s hair and yanking the younger boy up. The fair boy scrambled to grab onto something but fingernails only scratched against the slippery tile. This situation was all too familiar. The sickeningly warm heat of Merridew’s deadly hands, the submission Ralph gave to him by nature, the craving for blood so strong you could smell it. It was the same exact thing as their last moments on the island. And the fair boy could see it perfectly. It was all he could see. Blank walls melted into the ocean, flickering lights molding into the blistering sun. A spear sharpened by a boy who only knew chaos thrown at Ralph.

The boy started coughing uncontrollably. It wasn’t the light cough that one would do to clear their throat. It was painful, his chest growing tighter as Merridew held him there. Ralph was becoming worried that he’d start to cough something up. But before he could make another noise, Merridew’s hand was over his mouth. 

“Shut the fuck up.” The redhead hissed, earning a nod of agreement from Roger and a snicker from Bill. Ralph wondered if his language was always so vulgar, but realized he had more pressing issues to worry about in the moment. He could lick the boy’s hand, not that it’d do much. It would only piss Merridew off even more, worsening the already pretty terrible situation. Plus, Ralph was certain it would _taste_ awful.

The savage dug his fingers into the side of Ralph’s arm, making the boy let out a small yelp, muffled by the hand over his mouth. He could feel nails pierce through skin. The fair boy squirmed to get away. To find some sort of way to slip through. He came up empty handed and in an even tighter grip than he was before. 

“Jack!” Ralph was thrown to the ground, footsteps retreating from him. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the aching pain in his body. Mrs. Martin approached Ralph, looming over him. Worry flooded her features as she pushed the hair on his forehead back gently. She made a clicking noise with her tongue before softly tracing an open wound on his lip. 

“I thought I told you not to meddle with him.” Ralph let out a weak laugh, one that was barely audible. It was just a heavy breath passing through his lips. He couldn’t find the energy to simply respond to the woman. He just let her softly wipe away blood, staining the edge of her sleeves red. 

“I promised I’d watch over you Ralph.” She whispered, gently pressing her lips together before sliding a hand behind him. Mrs. Martin hoisted him to his feet, letting the fair boy use her body as a crutch. Everything ached. The side of his head where he’d hit the hard tile was sending waves of pain through his skull. It was nauseating, but Ralph convinced himself not to throw up in the middle of the hallway. 

“The nurse should be able to patch you up a little bit. If Jack lays another finger on you, come tell me. There will be consequences for him. My son or not, we have a  _ very _ strict no fighting policy. And he can get expelled if this behavior continues.”

“Hasn’t he gotten into fights before?” Ralph’s voice was broken, and he winced at the weak tone he’d spoken in. 

“Well yes. But there’s never been any proof except for claims. No witnesses and this school refuses to put up cameras for whatever reason. Something about trying to keep it as accurate to the years it was built as possible. You’re the first one where an adult saw a glimpse of the actual fight.” The woman pushed open the door to a room they’d now approached with her free hand, guiding the fair boy into the pale blue office. 

The nurse’s room was much colder than the rest of the school. In both appearance and temperature. It was plain blue walls, lined with the stereotypical posters you found in every doctors office. Eye exam charts, how to tell if a wound was infected, diagrams of the human body, things like that. White beds covered with some of the thinnest sheets Ralph had ever seen lined the wall. Mrs. Martin made a gesture for him to sit down on one. The fair boy did as she signaled, wincing as his body met the rock hard mattress. 

“Freddie? I have a student for you.” A woman walked out of the back office as what Ralph presumed her name was left Mrs. Martin’s lips. She was on the younger side, shoving the blue latex gloves over the honey skin that lined her hands. She had tight curls that bounced as she walked. Her appearance overall was warm and welcoming, but Ralph wasn’t one to trust what he saw. He learned that lesson the hard way a while ago.

The woman approached him and her hazel eyes searched for something in his ocean blue ones. The lady’s gaze met his injuries, probably assessing them. “What happened to you?”

“A fight. He was the victim. The instigator ran off when I found him.” The nurse gently reached out a gloved hand and wiped away some of the now mostly dried blood on Ralph’s lip. She pursed her lips before speaking again. 

“Where do you hurt sugar?” A strange warmth spread through Ralph as the woman used the nickname his mother had called him. She spoke in the same motherly tone. He’d never seen someone like her before. Someone who radiated the same concern as a mother was supposed to, despite not knowing him at all.

“Er- The back of my head. My lip. The left side of my ribcage. And my knees.” 

“Okay. I’ll take a look at you. My name is Ms. Rainey, by the way.” Ralph nodded as she left him to grab a bottle of hydrogen peroxide off of her desk. When she returned she dabbed it at his lip, eyes focused on what she was doing. The lack of speech gave Ralph a chance to think. Process what had happened. Merridew had fought him. He’d initiated a physical fight just to watch Ralph wriggled under his grip and beg for mercy the redhead devil would never give. He wanted the best view as the fair boy struggled to cling onto life. And the savage wanted to be the one to force him to take his final breaths and feel the pulse beneath his calloused fingers die.


	5. The Burning Flame

-

-

**_“I’m not gonna give in, if I have to fight_ **

**_Then I’m willing to give my life, rather die, than lay down on my back, got no white flag to throw.”_ **

**_Alamo, Alec Benjamin_ **

-

-

  
  


The nurse managed to patch him up well, mumbling incoherent words about how the fair boy needed to be more careful. The woman clearly wasn’t stupid. She probably had a very good idea as to who had caused the damage, but no names had been mentioned. A part of Ralph wanted to break the silence and tell the nurse everything. Just talk until his voice went hoarse and he couldn’t find the words to continue his story anymore. Tell her about the things he saw when he closed his eyes. The monsters that lurked in the darkest corners of his mind, only attacking when he let his guard down. Despite this urge, he bit his tongue and let the woman do her job. She wasn’t a therapist, she didn’t need to hear his plagued thoughts. If he let her know about everything that went on behind his ocean eyes, she’d call an asylum to come take him away. 

“You’ll be a little sore for the rest of the day, but otherwise your body will heal in 2 days time. Be sure to get plenty of rest and take care. And do try to stay away from the instigator. If they hurt you again, your left side is in danger. A rib could break if enough pressure is used. Highly unlikely, but it’s more vulnerable now. Return to your class, here’s a note for the professor.” Ralph took the colorful piece of paper from Ms. Rainey, trying to avoid the sticky side from clinging to his blazer as he set the note in his pocket. The nurse led him out of the office, smiling sweetly before shutting the door behind him. 

The hall was so silent. Almost too silent. He knew the way to his next class, but he didn’t dare move. It felt like someone was watching him.

“Allebach.” A cool voice split through the silence Ralph had known wasn’t safe. A shiver was sent down Ralph’s spine as none other than Roger Volkov walked out of the shadows.

The boy himself didn’t have any obvious weapons on him. But his mind was a weapon enough. It was twisted in all the worst ways. To the point where he normalized his homicidal tendencies, and even found it to be fascinating as his victim bled out. 

Ralph chose to keep his mouth shut.

“I’m giving you a warning,” Roger drawled, circling Ralph like a predator to prey, “Stay away from everyone except those little friends of yours, and you might just make it until spring.” He didn’t even need to warn Ralph. The boy had figured it out already. If he avoided Merridew like he was an incurable disease, he wouldn’t be a target. The redhead would grow bored of the chase after a couple months and move on. Hopefully.

“I-” Ralph let out a sigh, trying to ignore the fact that he was shaking, from both anxiety and terror, “I want to try. But Merridew. He won’t leave me alone. Just keep him away, and I’ll do the same.” Roger raised an eyebrow, but seemed satisfied enough with his response. 

“Watch your back Allebach. Not all of us abide by the rules.” With that last statement, Roger stalked off back into the dark hall he emerged from. The boy went so well with the shadows. It was almost like he could walk through them as one, unnoticeable to the human eye. Like he could be there without anyone even knowing. The raven haired boy had a certain way of melting into the darkness as if he belonged. 

  
  
  
  


Ralph chose to go to class almost immediately after the interaction with Roger, obviously interrupting something as when he entered the entire class glued their eyes to him. He handed the professor the neon note, scanning the room for an open seat.

“Next to Mr. Merridew. Class, you have some free time for a couple minutes. I have to call Nurse Rainey.” Ralph felt his chest tighten and tried to swallow, failing miserably. The redhead had glanced up, icy eyes locking Ralph in place. The professor seemed less than amused with the fair boy’s sudden freeze up, but read the note over and looked up, suddenly sympathetic. “Mr. Allebach these seats will be used for the entire first semester.” 

Ralph wanted to scream, cry, leave the class, anything but sit next to the boy who traumatized him for months on end. Who broke down his mental health beyond repair. Who cost him years of his life because his face was all he could see. Was all he knew. But he didn’t. He swallowed any urges, gripping the edge of his blazer so tightly his knuckles were turning white. The steps to his seat felt like forever. For every one step he took, Ralph could’ve sworn he took 3. 

Shockingly, Merridew left him alone as he gently sat down, moving the chair as far from the redhead as possible. None of the savage’s goons were in this class, leaving it to just him and Ralph. Perhaps he didn’t feel as powerful without boys behind him, backing him up with repulsive taunts and persistent jeers. But even when he stood alone, Merridew was a threat. Ralph knew he wouldn’t last forever unprovoked. Whether it be started by the fair boy or not, they would more than likely end up arguing during this class. The fires in their souls burned for two very different causes. One being the fire that destroyed everything around it, leaving only ashes in it wake. The other being the flame of perfection, what society craved so desperately to be. What the other craved so desperately to be.

Ralph couldn’t remember a time when he felt so on edge. Any small movement the savage made caused him to flinch, then earn a confused look from the boy himself, who ended up shrugging and going back to work. Maybe he felt weaker without his gang. But this was not the Jack Merridew that the fair boy had grown to know. 

His mind was so clouded. The proximity of the boy who once made him feel hopelessly lost and himself made him want to puke. In fact, the only note he took was shaky and 4 words long. His brain didn’t even process the words properly. Everything was so foreign. Even his own hands seemed like they weren’t his.

The hour that passed could have easily been three and Ralph wouldn’t have noticed. He just stared at the wall, mind blank for once in his life. There were no morbid memories or sudden flashes back to the past. It was so painstakingly quiet, Ralph could’ve sworn it wasn’t real. But the rustling the boy was making beside him told him it was very real. He really didn’t want to, but the atmosphere that had been built wrapped around him like a blanket. Merridew didn’t appear to have any ill intentions at the moment. Perhaps it was because of the teacher. Nevertheless, for the first time in three years, Ralph let his eyes close with ease. 

  
  
  


If you’ve lived on Earth, you know that not even the most serene things last. Eventually the peace ends. It only took 10 minutes for Ralph to wake up, panting, with the eyes of Jack Merridew on him. The island had come back. Specifically the dance at the fire the night they thought Simon died. Ralph remembered that night all too well. It was one of the few scenes that came back to haunt him on the regular. He just couldn’t get the chant out of his head, even when he laid down to rest. 

“Allebach. Class is almost over. Get up.” Merridew’s voice held the same icy tone it normally had, but the fact that he wouldn’t make eye contact with the fair boy told him that something was on the savage’s mind. Something that he didn’t know quite yet. But the gestures Merridew made, occasional shoving so he could get to his stuff that was nowhere near Ralph, told the boy that the redhead still didn’t take a liking to him. 

In the rush of kids trying to pack up and be the first to bolt out of the metal doors, Merridew’s hand laid unmoving on Ralph’s schedule. He wasn’t sure whether it was intentional or not and under normal circumstances he wouldn’t care. Sadly, he needed that sheet of paper. Pushing aside any fear, he cleared his throat and spoke to the boy.

“Merridew, move your hand. You’re covering my schedule.” Ralph hadn’t intended it to sound so cold, but he figured the redhead knew the game they were playing. The taller boy looked up, grunting as he aggressively shoved the blue sheet back to Ralph, crumpling the edges with the harsh movement. The fair boy didn’t even make an effort to thank him. Knowing Merridew, the boy would try to twist Ralph’s words around to his benefit. Or pin him against a wall and make him cry until his eyes were raw. Deprive him of his air. Make him wish he’d died on that island. 

The bell rang soon after, the fair boy springing up and out of the cramped room, into an even more packed hallway. He could barely get by the students and to his next class without stepping on someone’s foot or bumping a little too roughly into another student. The entire situation wasn’t what he wanted, but anything was better than Merridew. 

  
  
  


As it turned out his next class was gym. Even if he didn’t have the paper Merridew had so cruelly ruined earlier, he’d be able to find the gigantic room. It connected to the cafeteria, four doors leading in from the side Ralph was looking at. The huge metal doors were being constantly pushed open by frantic kids. The clinking sound of metal hitting metal made Ralph wince, as it had never been a pleasant sound. He ended up sliding in quickly after some jock, who was way too big for him to be even close to Ralph’s age, slammed the door open, earning a bark from one of the coaches. 

He found Simon easily, as the tan boy was calling out his name when he figured he came into sight. He was seated on the bleachers, which reeked with the everlasting stench of sweat. Cautiously, Ralph sat down next to Simon, who gave him a look of curiosity before speaking.

“Jack, Roger, Maurice and Walter are in this class. Sam and Eric are too, but they’re usually messing around with the lasses. Something about Sam pining after one of them for a while. Anyways, you shouldn’t be bothered by the other boys. Unless we do outdoor sports, we’re usually split by class. Thankfully we have the same coach.” Ralph nodded at the boy, who smiled gently in response. The fair boy lifted the corners of his mouth just barely, making sure not to make the gesture too inappropriate for the situation.

“You can smile, you know.” A soft breath left Ralph's lips, the closest thing to a laugh that he’d heard himself make. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew Simon’s innocence was something to be preserved. The boy who’d almost been murdered forgave the group that had done so. The fact that Simon was here, telling Ralph that he was able to do all these things he’d been told were inappropriate made the blond boy wonder if he’d been raised wrong. It made him wonder if people were allowed to speak before spoken to, if they were able to smile and laugh around their parents without being scolded. Ralph shook these vulgar thoughts aside. Of course he was raised right. He was a gentleman of high class, people just don't understand that this was how things had to be. He chose his next words carefully, hoping the tan boy would take no offense.

“You know I can't do that Simon. It’s against everything I was raised on.” Simon sighed, looking up into the bright lights of the gymnasium, emerald green eyes glowing. “Ralph, I think it’s time you just let go.” 

  
  
  
  


Ralph thought about Simon’s words long and hard for the second time today. This boy really had a way to get into Ralph’s head and leave him thinking. He’d always thought about abandoning what he’d been taught, but never so scandalously long. It almost hurt his brain how compelling it was to neglect what he’d been taught and try to live a little. But from past experiences and seeing the worst, Ralph Allebach knew that living a little would be what got him killed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My update schedule is kind of all over. My deepest apologies, I’ll try to find something consistent. This story has become a ‘write when I feel the urge to do so’ thing, as I don’t want to force myself to do it then lose interest in it.


	6. The Beast Breaks

-

-

**_“Fight or Flight,_ **

**_I’d rather die than have to cry in front of you.”_ **

**_Fight or Flight, Conan Gray_ **

_-_

_-_

**Trigger warning: In depth description of PTSD and anxiety/ panic attacks. This can be upsetting to some readers and I like you all to be safe. Safe reading <3**

He wasn’t quite sure how, but Ralph managed to make it to the end of the day without another scratch. The gym teachers had been the ones to assign dorm keys, and he got his no problem. They reviewed the basic rules for the entire block. Simple ones, such as you must bathe daily if you live on campus, or you must be up by 8 am for breakfast. Simon tried his hardest to comfort Ralph, squeezing his hand too tightly occasionally, or sending him a signature smile where he tilted his head ever so slightly that the raven hair on his head all fell to one side. Since his return, Ralph had been trying to pay more attention to details. Disregard for details was what killed so many littluns. Ignorance was what burned so brightly in every boy's soul as young ones perished at the hands of blistering heat and poisonous plants. 

While his newfound skill may be useful on an island in the middle of the merciless ocean, it proved pointless now. All he was using it for was mentally noting the difference in curls between Simon and the other boys hair. He couldn’t even bring himself to think his name. His stomach lurched with uneasiness, almost like those icy blue eyes were watching his every move. Like the mind of the other was hearing his every thought, feeling his every emotion. But Ralph couldn’t bring himself to look up to check. The constant turning of his stomach threatened to spill his guts if he took his eyes from the one spot in the bleachers. He spotted a group of girls get up and leave, whispering and staring. They were staring at him, whispering about him. He knew it. Ralph’s leg was bouncing up and down uncontrollably, fingernails sinking into the plush fabric of his pants. His vision blurred, the moving knee morphing into a streaky mess. This wasn’t happening. Not here. Not now. But he could _hear_ those whispers, he could _see_ those looks signaling he was a freak, he could _feel_ the judgement radiating off of the student body as a boy, swallowed by a sea, started to hyperventilate. 

  
  


It didn’t take long for Simon to notice Ralph’s change in behavior. Maybe Ralph had spent more time hopelessly noticing small things, but it felt like years before Simon’s small body turned to the blond boy and hastily pulled him into a tight hug. No words were spoken, just the silent gesture of purity in Simon’s heart and he rocked back and forth at a slow pace, cradling Ralph in his arms. The fair boy clung to Simon’s jacket praying for the tears to come. He just wanted to cry and be done with it. He wanted to stop the tight feeling in his chest from spreading. He wanted the shaking of his hands to just go away. He wanted to be normal. Yes that was it. Ralph Allebach would give anything and everything to just be normal. 

But he wasn’t. He was the boy who’d spent weeks, months, in his own personal hell. Trying to escape everyday and every day just being tossed back and forth between two twisted people for laughs. They played Ralph like a game, used him like he was a puppet and broke his strings once finished so he could serve no purpose. The boys threw him into the golden sand. The thing that once warmed the bottom of his feet now scorching his hands. No, it wasn’t normal to be so scared of another human that you would give anything, everything, just to get away. 

The tears never came. He just stayed in Simon’s arms, rocking back and forth and shaking wildly. His own hands looked blurry as he muttered words his brain didn’t process. 

“Ralph, listen to my voice. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.” He really wanted to listen. The words were so soft. So caring. But he couldn’t listen. Something clawed at his throat, threatening to turn his stomach inside out. There was a beast inside of him. It was what played with his mind. It was what made him feel like this. It was what chilled him to the bone around Jack Merridew, because his beast was scared. It was scared of Merridew’s.

  
  


Ralph ended up shoving Simon off and trying to make a run for the bathroom, in hopes he could calm himself down there. The only issue was, he had no idea how to get out of the gym and ended up running into the open courtyard. Instead of being greeted with fresh air, the putrid stench of smoke hit his lungs. Already short of breath, the chemicals in the air sent him into a coughing fit, clutching his shirt in a silly attempt to help his throat. The smoke clouded his lungs, filling them to the brim with addictive chemicals. His eyes began to water, and in a desperate attempt to just get a breath in, he began to hyperventilate. 

“Allebach?” The sour voice of Jack Merridew met his ears. A cigarette was placed between his fingers, and he was looking at Ralph with some sort of confusion. Almost as if he had no idea what was happening. But behind those icy blue eyes, hatred brewed. Ralph was going to die here, all alone. Merridew was going to finish what he started all those years ago. So Ralph did the only thing he had left. He begged. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” The phrase spewed out of him, a never ending cycle as the fair boy’s legs buckled underneath him, sending him to his knees. Ralph covered his ears with his palms, the ground swaying underneath him. The dam broke free. The suppressed tears from earlier let loose and soon Ralph was crying. Not the crying people saw in movies. Not the crying people assumed happened when the word was mentioned. It was messy, uncontrollable, body wracking sobs. And they wouldn’t stop.

Ralph Allebach was on his knees for Jack Merridew. It was everything the redhead had always wanted. And yet, he didn’t move. He just stood there, watching. He didn’t make any move to touch the fair boy. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please don’t hurt me. Please.” In Ralph’s blurred vision, he saw muddy sneakers retreat. He glanced up slowly, seeing the figure of Merridew run into the gym again, movements too sloppy for the boy to be as confident as he usually appeared. Maybe he was getting his hunters back, the force of all of them would be unbearable. But both Ralph and Merridew knew that the redhead could beat him alone. And his ego was big enough for the savage to try. Something inside Ralph hummed, urging the boy to his feet. Loose tears streamed down his cheeks, the fair boy delicately wiping them away with his fingertips. He was going to go after the boy who traumatized him. 

  
  
  


It didn’t take long for Ralph to start regretting his decision. The halls were barren, as most kids had gone to their dorms. The silence was overbearing, and the scenario similar to earlier that day, when Roger made a threat upon Ralph’s life. Even as he retraced steps around the school, there was no sign of the redhead. Perhaps that was for the better. That he never saw Merridew. Ralph was probably the last person the boy wanted to see. The encounter would end with a hand tightly around the fair boy’s neck. 

Something soft grabbed Ralph’s hand, a wave of relief sliding over the boy as he assumed Simon had found him. The feeling disappeared completely when the cold edge of a blade pressed against his throat. 

“I thought I said to stay away from the Chief.” Ralph’s heart pounded as the hot breath of Roger Volkov whispered in his ear. 

“H-He’s not well.”

“I’m aware.” The raven haired boy spat, digging the sharp edge of a knife into Ralph’s skin. The fair boy whimpered as Roger gripped his wrist with a strength a boy his age shouldn’t possess. He yanked on the skin, shoving Ralph’s body forward, neck dangerously close to going through the blade.

“Your time is up. I warned you once. I won’t do it again.” The fair boy’s blood chilled at his captor’s words as the cold edge was removed from his throat.

“Oh dear. I really did miss this. Alas, I have places to be. Have a good day Ralph.” Ralph shivered uncontrollably, not even bothering to turn as Roger walked back into the hall, probably going after Merridew. The fair boy wanted so desperately to know why he couldn’t see the redhead, but it wasn’t worth his life.

  
  
  


Ralph ended up collapsing in his dorm, the bed a little too rough and the room a little too cold. But he was exhausted, the day's events draining him from everything. He barely had the energy to get up and move. So he just laid on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with heavy eyelids. It was painfully bare. Not much different from his room at home. 

He didn’t even have time to count his freckles before he fell into a deep slumber, mind finally clear.

_~ ~ ~_

_The dark sky was shattered by a blue-white scar. An instant later the noise was on them like the blow of a gigantic whip. The chant rose a tone in agony._

_“Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!”_

_Now out of the terror rose another desire, thick, urgent, blind._

_“Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!”_

_Again the blue-white scar jagged above them and the sulphurous explosion beat down. The littluns screamed and blundered about, fleeing from the edge of the forest, and one of them broke the ring of biguns in his terror._

_“Him! Him!”_

_The circle became a horseshoe. A thing was crawling out of the forest. It came darkly, uncertainly. The shrill screaming that rose before the beast was like a pain. The beast stumbled into the horseshoe._

_“Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood!”_

_The blue-white scar was constant, the noise unendurable. Simon was crying out something about a dead man on a hill._

**_“Kill the beast! Cut his throat! Spill his blood! Do him in!”_ **

_~ ~ ~_

Ralph awoke violently, covered in sweat and tears streaming down his cheeks. His breathing was heavy, heartbeat pounding in his ears. Despite gulping in air at alarming speeds, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

He began coughing as a result of his desperate attempt to get air that he already had. Suddenly he was thankful he skipped dinner, because if he’d have eaten he was positive he would’ve puked. Between the violent coughs and petrifying memory, it was obvious it would’ve happened. He ended up dry heaving, throwing the thin quilt off before leaning on the edge of the wooden nightstand, his head above the floor, in case the reaction caused something to come up.

Ralph shivered, feeling sick to his stomach. His head leaned on his now limp arm. He laid like that for a while, disassociating as the night terror’s effects finally began to fade. 

It took him 15 minutes to finally stop shaking and come to his senses. The first thing he realized was that he had fallen asleep in his uniform. The tie had wrapped around his back and his button up had wrinkled. Ralph undid the tie shakily, placing the red and navy cloth on his bedside table. His mind was unbelievably clouded, and only one thought was exceedingly clear to him. He wanted water. And he wanted it badly. 

He wasn’t quite sure what to do, as he didn’t know how to find any. The second floor bathroom would have to do, Ralph only prayed no boy was taking a shower. He didn’t want anyone to see him in his current state, even though he had calmed down significantly. He was still jumpy, on edge about the slightest of sounds. If anyone with a high enough hatred for the fair boy caught him, he’d have no chance of defense. Not that he braved much to begin with. The deterioration of his stubbornness had shown over time. The craving for water rang through his body, reminding him what he had his mind on originally. Ralph slowly stood up, bracing himself on the nightstand so he didn’t collapse immediately. 

The halls held things Ralph wasn’t aware of. The fair boy had learned that lesson. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to look at the never ending corridors the same way for the months to come. Ralph was extremely cautious as he pushed open the bathroom door, checking to make sure he was alone. He wasn’t. A familiar pair of shoes was in a stall, but Ralph had a feeling Jack Merridew wasn’t using the bathroom for its intended purpose. He was almost certain he could hear faint sobs. As quietly as possible, the boy approached the occupied stall, fingers dragging along the roughed doors. Ralph wasn’t quite sure why he was trying to talk to Merridew. Perhaps it was the small amount of sympathy the fair boy had. He wasn’t completely inhuman. 

“Merridew?” Ralph’s voice came out shaky, revealing what he was trying to hide. He was absolutely terrified of Merridew. 

“Fuck off Allebach.” The redhead’s voice was just as broken as Ralph’s. His response was barely a whisper, and the phrase had sounded like Merridew’s voice was disappearing. “I don’t need your help.”

Ralph didn’t dare even breathe. He just stood there, hand out on the stall door. If it was going to open, it would have done so already. Not to mention Ralph was insane for initiating conversation with Merridew in the first place. The savage knew himself better than Ralph did. He probably didn’t need anything from the fair boy. But his instincts told him otherwise. So he kept talking.

“You didn’t hurt me earlier. What… What happened?” 

“Nice to know you think I’ll hurt you every time you try and look at me.” His voice was muffled by what Ralph assumed was a hand, but he still didn’t have eyes on the boy. 

“I thought… I thought you wanted to kill me.” The words left a sour taste in Ralph’s mouth. He’d never admitted aloud that the boys from the island wanted him dead. Now that he had done it, a strange feeling of fear came over him. It finally hit him like a ton of bricks. They wanted him dead.

“Watch you bleed? Definitely. But kill you? It may have been my intention then, but it wasn’t when I saw you today.” The response sent a shiver down Ralph’s spine. He let out a shaky breath, trying to calculate how Merridew would respond if he asked him to face Ralph. He’d probably end up cussing the fair boy out. But words from the savage no longer stung as they used to. 

Before he could get the question out, the blue door swung open. Ralph didn’t think Merridew could look so distraught. He’d obviously been crying, as his eyes were unbelievably red. His hair was disheveled, as were his clothes. The usual blazer the boys wore was nowhere to be found, the tie missing too. The sleeves on the white button up were sloppily rolled up to Merridew’s elbows. He looked like a general mess and something deep inside Ralph really wanted to fix him. Old tear tracks stained his pale cheeks, the moonlight giving Merridew the ethereal glow his mother had the first time Ralph met her. His freckles looked like they were bleeding down his cheeks and despite the inappropriate situation, the fair boy couldn’t help but think that Merridew looked like simply just a boy. Not the savage Ralph had come to know. The redhead kept his gaze locked on the ground, refusing to meet Ralph’s eyes. The fair boy shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his blazer to avoid the natural instinct to wipe the tears off of Merridew’s face. He hated this boy. Why did he suddenly want to comfort him?

“Merridew I-”

“No. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I… I heard what you said and… It reminded me of what I used to hear myself say to my father.” Ralph was silent. “Oh god, why am I telling you this.” The words were whispered, but Ralph heard them as clear as day. He didn’t know what came over him. Perhaps it was the little good he had left. But Ralph pulled Merridew’s body towards him and gently held him in a hug. 


	7. Let me save you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a filler chapter, but I promise it will get good soon.

-

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**_“I despise you sometimes,_ **

**_I love to hate the fight, and you in my life is like_ **

**_Sipping on straight chlorine”_ **

**_Chlorine, twenty one pilots_ **

_ - _

_ - _

Merridew didn’t even get the chance to wrap his hands around Ralph before the fair boy pulled back, eyes wide with shock and fear. The redhead himself had an unreadable expression on his face, sharp features light by only the low glow of the moon. Ralph’s eyes glanced everywhere but the other boys, in fear of seeing some emotion that would lead to the end. Ralph ended up taking in smaller details about the boy who was now 5 feet away from him. His appearance was still scruffy, a slight pink now tingeing his cheeks. Merridew’s hand was wrapped around his neck, in what one could think was a vulnerable position. It had to be a ploy. A tactic to get Ralph to submit to him. The rubber edge of his converse was being scuffed on the bathroom tile in messy, uncontrolled movements. His jaw was clenched tightly, most likely signaling some sort of discomfort. Ralph wanted nothing more than to crawl into the floor and never leave. Cover his body in the decade old grout and not even think about returning. He never wanted to face the scrutinizing glare of Jack Merridew again. Not after what he’d done to Ralph. In the past and the present. Especially not after all the terrible things he’d played off as games, all the people he broke, all the boys he manipulated, and all the dreams he crushed with a simple wave of a hand. More importantly, he never wanted to face Merridew after he’d made a sentimental gesture to the savage. 

It was Merridew who spoke first. “We’ll avoid each other. I’ll ignore you and you’ll ignore me. This interaction never happened. We can just wipe today from our minds.” He swallowed thickly, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Nobody has to know.” If Ralph didn’t know better, he’d assume Merridew was scared. Scared of being seen around Ralph. 

In a swift movement, Merridew stuck his hand out, quickly drawing it back into his body once he realized their skin would touch. Ralph was thankful of the redhead’s actions for once, knowing that if he had to be within 10 feet of the boy again, he would tremble with fear. He hated how weak Merridew made him. This wasn’t who he was. Yet, he was standing in a completely silent room, icy blue eyes watching his every move, waiting for a response. And he was too scared to say anything. Maybe if Merridew hadn’t tried to kill him that day, Ralph would have more confidence. Maybe if the boy hadn’t felt his pulse thump under his fingers like a rabbits foot and tried to silence that beat. Maybe, just maybe, if Merridew wasn’t Merridew, Ralph would be able to stand up to him. But nothing could change their past. It shaped their current realities. Where Ralph was Merridew’s little puppet to manipulate. Ralph settled on nodding, a weak attempt to revolt against the much stronger boy.

Merridew pursed his lips, tilting his head to face the window in the bathroom. It’s lined with stained glass, creating a beautiful mosaic. The array of colors reflected onto the boys skin, making this entire encounter seem so surreal. The plush skin of pale lips swelled back up when Merridew’s jaw slackened. He looked just as scared as Ralph felt. But something about the boy made his fear seem dangerous. Like whenever he tried to show feelings to Ralph, it was bait. He was using the blond’s empathy to his advantage and when the moment was right, he would tear him down. Brick by brick. 

“Did I ever say I was sorry?” Merridew’s voice is so small, Ralph almost missed the words entirely. 

“Yes, you did. I don’t recall forgiving you. They forced you to say it, you know.” Merridew slid down the tiled wall, hands clasped tightly over his knees. His head was still held high, watching the sky outside of the window. It’s almost as if he sees something Ralph doesn’t. He makes no move to initiate conversation again, so Ralph does it for him.

“You should get back to Roger, Merridew. I’m sure he’ll be looking for you. He seemed quite rattled about your abrupt disappearance earlier.”

“Do you ever talk like a fucking normal human being?” The question is sudden, cutting off the end of Ralph’s sentence. Their eyes still haven’t met, Merridew being the one who can’t bring himself to look into Ralph’s eyes this time. The blond himself is studying Merridew’s face, searching for an answer he knows he’ll never get. In reality, the criticism itself isn’t too astonishing. Of course Merridew would find something to attack Ralph over, but the way he speaks seems like a tad bit of a stretch to Ralph. Like he couldn’t think of anything else, so Merridew blurted out the first thing he could pass as an insult. 

“I wasn’t raised quite the way you were. Additionally, you’re supposed to be avoiding me. It’ll be a rarity you hear me speak again.” 

“I’m listening to you right now, and I want to ram my fist into your face.” Ralph snorted. That wasn’t really much of a difference. He doesn’t respond to Merridew’s biting words though. He would just be egging the boy on. And the last thing he needed was another blooming bruise on his skin. The blond’s body ached with exhaustion suddenly, threatening to give out. Ralph pressed his lips together quickly, before slowly making his way to the swinging metal door. He turned back right before he left the cold room, watching Merridew. The redhead was still facing the window, eyes had since fluttered shut.

“Goodnight Merridew.” The words are a whisper. Some sort of civil gesture. A sad attempt to fix what the savage had broken so long ago. But Ralph wasn’t as scared anymore. Not of Merridew at least. The boy’s angular face would always haunt him and make him shiver down to the bone. However, there was a sort of uncertain security that Ralph carried around now. Merridew had every chance to hurt him in that bathroom, and he’d acted on none of the millions of thoughts probably plaguing his mind. He had mentioned wanting to harm Ralph, but he never did it. He even said he’d leave Ralph alone, a great feat for the blond boy in the grander scheme of life. 

  
  
  


Ralph woke for a second time, just as gracelessly as the first. The sheets were tangled up around his legs, pinning him to the bed. His breath was ragged, the boy taking two breaths at the speed at which everyone else took one. He barely remembered the scene that he’d dreamt about, only the horrifying face of Merridew, slathered with clay and blood, looking down on him with a curious expression. He had a cold blade against Ralph’s throat and then the memory cut off. It just faded to black like it always does. No matter how many times he desperately tried to fall back asleep and recall something, anything, it never happened. It was so unbearingly empty compared to every other encounter he’d had with Merridew. 

Ralph quickly untangled the sheets around him, not wanting to fall back into the pit of his own memories. The fact that there was a chance he could relive those old events was scary enough. 

Ralph ended up opening the window and letting the chill of the wind sting his cheeks. The welcoming feeling wrapped Ralph up in its arms, bringing him much needed comfort. A friendly reminder that he was alive, here and now. That he hadn’t died on that island and he wouldn’t be that easy to take down. 

The sun rose from above the trees and through the clouds, shining on Ralph’s skin. He winced at the sudden change of scenery, but didn’t move from his spot on the windowsill. Everything was so peaceful. How he wanted it. The songs of birds and the chirps of crickets brought some sort of serenity to Ralph. But if he knew anything, it was that peace on planet Earth never lasted.

Ralph arrived at breakfast 5 minutes after the assigned time. It honestly hadn’t been entirely intentional. He did have to do his usual routine. But he had chosen to do it after almost every boy had left the bathroom. Perhaps it was poor planning on his part, but nobody seemed to notice the boy had come into the noisy room at all. Boys aged from what could only be 13 to 19 all scrambled to get breakfast first. The fight for food was unnerving, making Ralph’s stomach turn with anxiety. He’d seen this before. He’d seen those hunger driven eyes, but to an extent these boys couldn’t  _ begin _ to comprehend. Yet, he held his head high for the first time since he’d arrived and scanned the room for his friends. He found Simon’s coarse black hair fairly quickly, as it was the only one decorated with the wisps of flowers. 

Simon noticed Ralph at around the same time the fair boy saw him. He broke out into a huge, Simon-like smile and waved Ralph over. He quickly turned to Peter and said unintelligible words as Ralph tried his best to weave through the crowd of running boys. A smaller one with mouse colored hair cut him off quickly, big blue eyes meeting Ralph’s before spitting out a quick sorry and chasing after another laughing boy. 

Ralph approached the table, exhausted with the long walk over. 

“Welcome to the cafeteria. It’s like this every morning.” Simon shoots Ralph another signature smile, laying his hand on the fair boy’s arm and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Thanks. I s'pose I won’t be eating then?” Ralph glanced back at the ever growing line, now wrapping around the columns that were holding the ceiling up. A head of red hair caught Ralph’s gaze and he quickly forced his eyes away before one of his friends took note. Peter furrowed his brow when his eyes met Ralph’s and for a split second, Ralph couldn’t breathe. His heartbeat pounded in his ears as Peter’s lips parted to speak.

“We can always get you food, Ralph. You really shouldn’t go without eating.” The fair boy let out a long breath of air, giving Peter a small smile.

“Thank you Peter, but I think I can manage. I’m sure if I arrive earlier, the line won’t be as grueling.” Peter nodded, turning back to his own food. Ralph, having nothing better to do, began scanning the room again. He could feel them on him. He could feel the stare. He knew who was behind it. Of course he did, the boy was everything but discreet. But Ralph wasn’t quite ready to look back into icy blue eyes and have his blood freeze, so he focused instead on a smaller area of the room. The mouse haired boy stood there, leaning up against a blond who was laughing loudly. There was an unexplainable air of happiness to them, and it made Ralph’s lips tug up into a small smile. 

“Percival and Max grew up quite well, didn’t they?” Simon's soft voice rang in Ralph’s ear, The unfamiliar name made Ralph question his friend.

“Who?”

“Max? The Mulberry Boy. They’re quite the duo now. I think they’ve forgotten about the island entirely. Probably for the better, as kids don’t tend to fare too well when it comes to death. But they seem to be doing alright. Percival stood up to Jack a couple times, but that’s resulted as you’d expect.” Ralph shivered at the use of Merridew’s first name, keeping his eyes trained on the boys. When he finally tore his gaze away, he was met with the challenging stare of the devil himself, who smirked, shot Ralph a discreet obscene gesture, and turned on his heel, choir behind him like a pack of dogs. 

Ralph wondered what it was like to be that kind of human. To have so much power people followed after you desperately, like moths to a flame. To be able to convince people even the worst decisions could be passed off as good. To have crowds of people part for you from pure terror and respect. Ralph couldn’t help but wonder what it was like to be Jack Merridew. And in all honesty, he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know. Because under that tough exterior, he was hurting. But nobody was there to help him. Nobody ever would be. For some god forsaken reason, Ralph wanted to. 


	8. Empty Promises

-

-

**_“ I’m learning how to get up off my knees_ **

**_And all it takes is practice._ **

**_[...]_ **

**_You don’t have to feel safe to feel unafraid.”_ **

**_Lions!, Lights_ **

_ - _

_ - _

  
  


Much to Ralph’s shock, Merridew kept his word. The promise to leave him alone still stood, a brick wall teetering on the edge, so close to tipping over, but somehow still standing. Ralph hated how the only person he had found himself trusting was Jack Merridew. He hated how the redhead who once stood over him, crimson blood streaked down his face, mixing with his salty sweat, was the one person he could lay his trust in. He had so many reasons to turn his back on Ralph and humiliate him just to see the mortified expression in the fair boy’s face as the entire school morphed into the demons he’d known. But something kept Merridew grounded. Ralph was sure he’d never admit to it, it would be too much of a blow to his dominance, but something was keeping him from taking Ralph’s face and smashing it into the nearest metal locker. 

The odd level of peace lasted for about a week before Ralph began to grow suspicious and Merridew very clearly annoyed. Despite the odd shift in behaviour towards one another, the redhead remained seated next to Ralph, the same icy cold glare, the same distance to be kept between the two boys at all times. They would practically be seated at the tables to the left or right of them, one from intimidation and the other, disgust. There were times where their elbows nearly collided, as Merridew just had to be left handed and seated on Ralph’s left. Both of them had brushed it off with abnormally formal coughing, a straighten of an already perfectly positioned school tie, and then it was over. Everything went back to the cold blooded hatred both 16 year old boys wallowed in. The scratch of graphite on paper soon drove Ralph wild, fingers itching for some sort of interaction. He was so bothered by the lack of attention on the redheads end, Ralph found himself on the brink of confronting Merridew in the long corridors. 

At the 7 day mark, Ralph began to let his guard down significantly. His muscles gave the same sort of relaxed feeling that usually occurred when he sat in front of the fire. Legs cramped, body aching to be moved, but a comforted feeling all the same. Now that Ralph thought of it, he hadn’t seen any flames since his last day staying in his house. It was certainly an odd feeling, as he used to watch the sparks consume wooden logs on the daily, especially in weather conditions such as the ones happening currently. The bitter chill of wind being eliminated by the wash of warmth over skin. 

Ralph was sitting in his room, the window wide open despite the air being painfully cold. He had curled his knees up to his chest, picking at the fabric on the knee of his pants, teeth sunk so deep into his bottom lip that the metal taste of blood coated his mouth. The school had issued him a laptop, a decently priced one as well - Ralph’s father would be proud of his choice in schools, he was sure of it. Most of his courses had online versions of each one, the teachers implying they were mandatory when they were in fact, optional. Ralph did them all anyways, thousands of statistics problems swimming through his brain, causing him to have to lean back and stop the heightened spinning of the Earth. 

He had his eyes closed, fingers delicately laced around a pencil, when the door to his room opened. Ralph’s eyes fluttered open, still thick with a mixture of sleep and his brain being mush from the unnecessarily high amount of math questions. It registered that another human being was there, a rough silhouette of an individual, all too familiar to him. The name was on the tip of his tongue, however in his sleep drunk state, Ralph couldn’t quite pinpoint who. He closed his eyes once more, head feeling too heavy to keep upright. He inhaled slowly, trying to ignore the feeling of eyes on him. It was a shaky breath, as he didn’t quite want to know who was in front of him. He wasn’t nearly as put together as he usually appeared as, but the person didn’t seem to mind. They paced around, footsteps heavy across the breaking wooden floor. Ralph could hear skin against wood, his brain registering it as fingertips against a desk. The figure approached him, footsteps getting significantly lighter, almost as if they actually believed Ralph had fallen asleep in such a short amount of time. 

Ralph almost gasped aloud when lips brushed against the side of his temple, sending a shiver down his spine. Ralph hadn’t expected something of the sort, more or less preparing himself to be scolded by a teacher. It was a soft gesture, one that didn’t last too long at all. A gentle touch brushed his blond bangs back against his forehead, lips gracefully brushing over the spot the hair once lay. A shuddering gasp left Ralph’s mouth this time, a soft chuckle meeting his ears. The voice was all too familiar and yet, he couldn’t place his finger on it. The footsteps Ralph had been listening to retreated out of the room, the door shutting quietly before they picked up, like the person was running. 

  
  


Ralph spent the next 2 hours awake, racking through his brain for a list of lasses he’d encountered that would be brave enough to break into his room and make such a sweet gesture to him. And why his face was still burning, why his heartbeat picked up so drastically, and why he desperately wanted it to happen again. Ralph couldn’t quite explain it, but the drag of lips against his skin set it on fire. Ralph had spent his whole life sheltering himself from love, convinced that there was no duality in humans. That everyone was selfish and in it for their own personal desires, pushing others after themselves. He made himself believe that a certain savagery was buried deep down within people, and couldn’t ever be tamed. A beast had a hold of everyone, keeping them on a chain. But if Ralph caught this lass making another sentimental gesture to him, he may as well throw everything he tried to teach himself out the window. He had always been so disgusted by love, a sickening feeling rising in his stomach. Now, his stomach was still flipping but in an utterly different way. For the first time since he’d come home from the island, Ralph felt loved. 

  
  


Despite the giddiness the fair boy was feeling, the night doused it like water to a small flame. He struggled to fall asleep, his body pleading for the horrific nightmares to stay away. If he was in the mansion he called home, he would softly creep down the stairs, skipping the fourth stair from the bottom, for it creaks too much, and wander into the parlor. His footsteps would be muffled by the socks on his feet, just enough to keep his father asleep. Ralph would gently remove the matches taped to the back of the portrait of his great grandfather, placed there by Ralph himself. There would be two of them, there always was. The shadows would creep up the wallpaper, threatening him in the darkness of the room. The curtains would be drawn, to keep out any light except for a sliver of moonlight, pushing its way through the slit in the dark red velvet. A match would be struck on the box Ralph hid in the drawer of an old wooden desk, and suddenly the shadows would retreat slightly, frightened by the flame. The fireplace would set aflame once the fire got close enough, scaring the dark off to torment Ralph another time. The flames would take time to reach their peak, eating away at wood as Ralph waited, watching them with great interest. Eventually, he would become sore, risking his position to grab a cushion off of the decade old couch. Placed far enough from the fire not to get too hot, Ralph would just watch as the wood would deteriorate, flames lapping up the sides of the enclosed area. 

He’d never found the general attraction to fire odd, not even questioning why it made him feel so at peace when it once made him worry for his life. No, he hadn’t ever looked at fire in a negative way. 

He shivered, suddenly aware that he was not in the mansion's parlor, but in a bed with too thin sheets, a mattress that felt like the rocks he once slept on, and a window wide open, the breeze blowing across his face, stinging his nose just enough to be noticeable. He wanted nothing more than to be in his father’s house. For he could not call it home, as it wasn’t home. He never felt comfortable there. Like he could be at ease. More often than not, he felt scared. Scared his father would insult him, scared he wasn’t good enough. 

Ralph shuddered, turning on his back in a desperate attempt to force his eyes closed.  _ Count the freckles. _ It was a whisper in the back of his mind, but his hand moved on its own. Out in front of him, fingers spreading out in the moonlight.  _ One. Two. Three _ . 

Ralph got to 34 before his body slipped into a deep sleep. 

  
  


_ “Heave! Heave! Heave!” _

_ Ralph put down his spear, then picked it up again. He pushed his hair back irritably, took two hasty steps across the little space and then came back again. He stood looking at the broken ends of branches. _

_ Still silence. _

_ He caught sight of the ruse and the fall of his diaphragm and was surprised to see how quickly he was breathing. Just left of the center his heart-beats were visible. He put the spear down again. _

_ “Heave! Heave! Heave!” _

_ A shrill, prolonged cheer. _

  
  


Ralph woke the next morning, eyes screwed shut so tightly it had given him a headache. He gripped the sheets of the bed with a force he didn’t know he had in him, fingernails digging into his palms. He loosened his muscles, untangling the white cloth from around his fingers. His heartbeat registered in his ears, breath uneven and heavy, as if he’d just run a marathon. Ralph hated this feeling more than anything. The incomprehensive state that came after the nightmares. His mind was unbearably foggy, only one thought clear through the thick haze. Shower. He needed to shower. 

  
  


The rest of the day up to gym was unshockingly uneventful. He avoided Merridew like he carried some form of the plague, trying his hardest not to even breathe the same air as the redhead. As for the boy himself, he let out a couple of scoffs, smelling faintly of cigarette smoke and alcohol. It stung Ralph’s nose, making him scrunch it up in distaste and scooting the chair as far away from the boy as possible. If Merridew saw the gesture, he didn’t acknowledge it, icy blue eyes trained on the hundreds of letters scrawled in front of him. He was mumbling incoherent words to himself, Ralph only catching two or three at a time. The fair boy decided he wasn’t going to pay Merridew much attention, just leave him to his antics, and at least try to get a good mark. The redhead seemed to be thinking the same exact thing. 

That was, until gym on the eighth day. Simon stayed by his side, grip always tight on Ralph’s upper arm. Despite the wind being horribly brutal, their coach decided it was time two of the classes went for a couple laps around the track. Luck was never on his side, so the coach selected Merridew’s and his class. Ralph inhaled sharply, Simon’s grip on him tightening so much it became borderline painful. Ralph shook his arm as a signal to the smaller boy, who’s clutch immediately loosened and a string of soft apologies flew out of his mouth. 

“I just… have trouble trusting that Jack will leave you alone,” Simon mumbled his words, tripping over a few in only a way Simon could make work, “He was awfully quiet yesterday, sharing only a few words with Roger. I found it suspicious but I decided not to say anything. I’m already in deep water with Roger.” Simon chuckled lightly, earning a horrified glance from Ralph.

“You’re not scared?”

“Of Roger?” Simon raised his eyebrows before turning to face the opposite class, “No. He can’t hurt me more than he did before.” Ralph swallowed roughly, feeling the salvia scratch down his throat. Simon was so forgiving that it was almost impossible to remember that he’d been through some of the worst trauma out of anyone. That he watched the world burn in front of him and still found his own way to douse the towering flames. He had been scorched by those he trusted, nursed the burns away and forgave. 

“No. He can’t hurt me.” The words were whispered, Ralph just barely catching them. He wanted to tell Simon that his trust in the savage was blind, that he was walking further into a trap built for just this. But his lips couldn’t move. He knew the outcome. Simon's green eyes would shatter before him, his heart breaking in his hands. Tears would brim and spill, staining his tan skin deeper, eventually tinting his nose red from tears. He’d bend over, clutching his stomach as he tried to gasp in air. It was horrifying to watch Simon crumble and have no way to help him. He refused it most times, swatting hands away through raspy gasps. So Ralph kept his lips sealed, just gently laying a hand on the other boy’s shoulder.

Merridew struck when they were on the track. What could be accidental shoves into Ralph, a murmured apology at first, but clearly becoming intentional the third time their shoulders collided. Ralph’s head snapped up on the fourth bump, gently rolling his left shoulder back into place, frustration building with Merridew. 

“I’m sorry, if I happen to be in your way. Could you please ask me to move next time?” Merridew stopped dead in his tracks, Bill and Roger stopping with him. He spun around, smiling curling like the Cheshire Cat. Ralph pressed his lips together, biting at the inside of his lip as the taller boy approached him. The emotions he’d kept bottled up for the past 7 days were released, swarming his head in such a quick movement Ralph was scared he would lose balance and topple over. Merridew blinked slowly, tilting his head, the same menacing smile still displayed prominently. He went for the front of Ralph’s shirt, blatantly ignoring the protests from Simon, who was pleading that Merridew leave the fair boy alone and just forgive him. But he didn’t want Merridew’s forgiveness. Not now. Ralph noticed Roger grab the smaller boy out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head fully, keeping the redhead in his peripheral and head held high. He was looking after his friend, he wasn’t standing down. Simon himself didn’t even fight back against Valkov, letting the raven haired boy hold him in place, with some sort of delicate grip Ralph hadn’t ever seen displayed by him before. Despite this, Simon winced and Ralph began to think that maybe Roger was being rougher than he was letting one. A calloused hand jerked his chin back into place, ripping a gasp from Ralph’s lips. Merridew’s icy eyes studied him, a malicious intent dancing around in the irises, just like the dance on that fateful night. His grip was like iron, holding the fair boy in place. Ralph could barely draw a breath in without wheezing. 

“Watch yourself, Allebach. I thought you knew I didn’t play by the rules.” Merridew’s tone held so much pent up anger that Ralph shivered, trying to shove the freckled wrist away from his jaw. Merridew just breathed out a small chuckle, grip tightening to the point of dizzying pain. Ralph let out a small snarl in a burst of confidence, a desperate attempt to restore the vanishing air in his lungs. The fair boy used the rest of his deteriorating strength to tug Merridew’s grip off, ignoring the friction of skin against skin, gasping for air. The oxygen hit him like a brick wall, causing him to stagger back, the world spinning a little too quickly from a dangerous mix of fear and the air he could now breathe properly once more. The sloppily paved track began to split in two, jeers from Bill turning to mush into Ralph’s brain. He blinked quickly twice, head spinning so wildly that he wasn’t quite sure whether he was still upright. No, he couldn’t be. The ground underneath him was solid. He could feel the scratch of tar against soft skin. He blinked again. The Earth stilled at last. 

Ralph was indeed on the ground, legs more likely than not having given out underneath him. Roger had since let go of Simon, although the boy hadn’t moved an inch. He simply stood there, eyes gently closed, words being mumbled under his breath. A prayer, perhaps. Or at least Ralph hoped it was one. Because the look on Merridew’s face was a sharp mixture of what could only be blinding rage and fear. But what Ralph couldn’t quite tell was whether the redhead was scared of the blond or if he was scared of himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)). I’m sorry this took so long. Also Ralphs an idiot. Like officially


	9. The Night Holds Too Many Secrets

-

-

**_“Think my moral compass is on a vacation,_ **

**_and I can’t believe I still feed my_ **

**_fucking temptation”_ **

**_929, Halsey_ **

_-_

_-_

  
  


_Because the look on Merridew’s face was a sharp mixture of what could only be blinding rage and fear. But what Ralph couldn’t quite tell was whether the redhead was scared of the blond or if he was scared of himself._

Merridew backed away from Ralph, each step back a step into a territory neither boy had seen before. Merridew looked seconds away from fleeing. The sudden shift in the air was bone chilling, Ralph finally having enough air to push his body off the ground and up onto his feet. Merridew didn’t move. He just stood there, like a deer caught in headlights, eyes clouded over with a thousand words nobody but the redhead would ever know. Ralph wanted to tear him down, he wanted to watch Merridew cower underneath him like he once made Ralph do. Years of uncharacteristic anger, kept silent inside the towering walls of his fathers mansion. It was finally coming undone. Ralph was finally coming undone. And this, this act of violence that if continued couldn’t be ignored, was _exactly_ what Merridew wanted. He wasn’t scared. He would never be the prey, oh no, Merridew was a hunter. He was playing on Ralph’s emotions to try and make everything look like it was the blond’s fault. Just like he did 4 years ago. 

But Ralph stayed rooted. Somewhere inside of him, something had shifted. No matter the anger that was brimming the edges, no matter how much he wanted karma to swiftly uppercut Merridew, no matter how much he wanted him to truly be just as broken as Ralph had been, a gear had shifted into place. Merridew was a god awful excuse for a human being, and didn’t seem to want to change. Yet, Ralph couldn’t quite shake the low glow of the moonlight and the tears down the boy’s face. The memory of Jack’s body warming Ralph’s as he stiffened, then loosened as he realized how innocent the gesture had truly been. Yes, Merridew was a hunter. But even the hunter couldn’t stay strong forever. 

He could, in front of all of his little cronies and Merridew himself, spill the secret. Tell them everything in such perfect detail there would be no option to deny the truth. Ralph couldn’t do that, though. Not when he knew this feeling all too well.

Merridew’s icy blue eyes locked with Ralph’s in a silent challenge. Ralph blinked in surrender and the angular features of the other twisted in a cartoonish shock. Ralph supposed he wasn't used to the fair boy just giving, no panic in his eyes and no malice. Only remorse. 

“Apologies if I insulted you. I suppose I’ll see you later tomorrow.” Ralph raised an eyebrow softly before finally leaving Merridew and his friends alone. He completely forgot about Simon until the boy was right beside him, eyes round with the same emotions Merridew had painted on his face. Ralph, for some reason, didn’t feel like he had anything to fear anymore. It was the final move. He had put Jack in checkmate. The game was coming to a close, and Ralph was finally looking like he could be victorious. 

The night dragged on for Ralph, who had lit a candle and was writing a letter to his father. His mind was foggy, the day still replaying over and over in his mind. He couldn’t seem to shake the expression Merridew wore when he stood down, so much that it was all he was thinking about. As much as Ralph hated to admit it, he couldn’t get the redhead out of his mind. 

The clock struck 22:00 and the door to his dorm room opened.

There stood Jack Merridew, in all of his glory. His hands were shoved deeply into his pockets, clearly straining the fabric. He had the same disheveled look he had when Ralph caught him in the bathroom. The moment had felt like forever ago, but at the same time like it was only 5 minutes prior. Merridew’s uniform was crumpled, just as before, his tie and blazer were missing, just as before, his sleeves were sloppily rolled up to his elbows. Only this time, he clearly hadn’t been crying. 

The redhead looked around before slowly meeting Ralph’s eyes. “I’m…” Ralph raised an eyebrow as Merridew’s strained voice met his ears. If Ralph hadn’t known better he would’ve said Merridew’s face… _flushed_. It was so quick, the blond couldn’t really tell. However, unless he was imagining things, Merridew’s freckles had disappeared behind a cloud of red before quickly returning. 

“I’m so sorry, Ralph.” And just like that, the shorter boy was on his feet, rushing over to Merridew and pressing his body against his just like he had a week ago. Something about the low light and the fact that Ralph had spent so long thinking about what it would be like to do this again, made every fiber in his being move towards the other with a force he couldn’t contain.

And before he knew it, Merridew’s arms were wrapped around Ralph. It was a protective hold, pushing the shorter boy’s face into the cloth of his shirt as Ralph clung onto it. His nose was buried in the crease of the redhead’s arm, ear pressed against his chest. And all Ralph could hear was the abnormally fast beating of Merridew’s heart. 

Merridew slowly exhaled, the beating of his heart slowing just a little.

“Jack- can I call you that?” The boy hummed in response, the vibration sending a feeling of comfort through Ralph that he couldn’t quite explain. “I… I thought you hated me.” Jack’s hold tightens around Ralph, pulling him impossibly closer. The blond can't really breathe, but he doesn’t want to lose Jack. He’s never felt so warm in his life. Not even with all the time he’s spent by the fire.

“It’s hard to explain. Once the sun comes up, you’re the thing that makes my blood boil. You instill anger in me I didn’t know I could possess. But…” Jack pauses, hand unclasping and gently touching the back of Ralph’s head, pushing it lightly into his shoulder. Ralph doesn’t complain, closing his eyes and letting the taller boy embrace him. “Once the sun goes down, everything changes. The anger just… vanishes. I don’t know where it goes, but all I want to do is protect you. I’m sorry if that doesn’t make any sense.” 

“It makes perfect sense…” The blond trails off, flattening his palms against Jack’s back. The redhead had explained exactly how Ralph had felt, without really even knowing it. While he was at school, he wanted to break Jack’s nose, tear him into itty bitty pieces and watch him fall. But once night fell, he couldn’t help but crave the others closeness. Perhaps it was the late night conversations the two had shared on the island; It was the only time Jack had washed his paint off and let himself be vulnerable to Ralph. Still, even now, Ralph knew this was a bad idea. And yet, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to pull away. 

They didn’t talk much after that. Ralph just listened to the others heartbeat. Jack’s breathing stabilized after what felt like hours, Ralph’s soon following into a steady rhythm. They just stood there, right next to the closed door, Jack rocking slightly back and forth, which eventually put Ralph into a dreamy state. He couldn’t help but feel like this was how couples acted, the sweet embrace. It was making him dizzy.

“Were you.. the one who-?” Jack made a noise in the back of his throat, gently pulling away. Ralph shivered at the loss of warmth, the cold hitting him like a brick wall. Jack’s face was undeniably flushed now, the bright red being impossible to hide. He pressed his lips together in a thin line, the words coming out as a whisper, and if not for their close proximity, Ralph would’ve missed it.

“The other day… You were asleep and. It just happened. I didn’t mean to. It only really processed after I-” Jack’s sentence trailed off as Ralph slowly brought his hands up the boy’s chest and to his shirt collar. He straightened the fabric out, trying to remove any wrinkles and creases. 

“Thank you.” Ralph mumbled, still focusing on the cotton shirt, “You made me feel loved for the first time in I don’t know how long.” What shocked the blond the most was that he wasn’t even mad. There was no anger that it hadn’t been a lass that gently brushed their lips against his temple. No rage that out of everyone, it had been the one person he considered an enemy. Jack gently grasped Ralph’s wrists, their eyes finally meeting. Ocean blue clashed with the other’s icy colour. Jack removed Ralph’s hands, letting them go and fall to his sides. 

The redhead swallowed roughly, fingers brushing Ralph’s cheekbone. It was a light touch, just enough to send shivers down his spine. And for the first time in his short lived life, Ralph wasn’t scared of Jack Merridew. For the first time since he’d known him, Jack thought that maybe, just maybe, he could learn to love Ralph Allebach. And nothing scared him more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL I- HOLD ONTO UR ASSES SHIT BOUTTA GET INTERESTING


	10. The Starting Line

-

-

**_“I forgive you,_ **

**_We were just a couple of kids_ **

**_Trying to figure out how to live_ **

**_No Shame, No Blame_ **

**_Cause the damage is done and_ **

**_I forgive you.”_ **

**_I forgive you, Kelly Clarkson_ **

_-_

_-_

  
  


_And for the first time in his short lived life, Ralph wasn’t scared of Jack Merridew. For the first time since he’d known him, Jack thought that maybe, just maybe, he could learn to love Ralph Allebach. And nothing scared him more._

  
  


They didn’t talk at all after Ralph practically admitted to loving Jack. Instead, Jack just puts a hand gently on Ralph’s chin, tilting it upwards so the fair boy has no choice but to look him in the eyes. 

“I know… My promises aren’t exactly worth much,” Ralph snorts, Jack’s eyes going cold before melting once more. It’s almost a perfect imitation of ice going to water, “But I promise I’ll visit you as much as I can. As often as I can. Every night if you want me to. Just… Not during the day. During the day we can’t act like this.” Ralph nods as best he can, fully aware of why the small amount of rules Jack made are in place. As much as he wants to be here, surrounded by the comfort this boy brings to him, he knows that being around each other during the day is a dangerous game. Sure, he’d much rather be wrapped up in Jack’s arms right now. However, if he knew what was happening right now earlier in the day, he would’ve lost his mind. He's sure he wouldn’t have believed it. But now, nothing else feels like it would be right to him. 

Jack smiles at the boy, raising an eyebrow. It’s a silent question, one Ralph can’t quite read. He gives Jack a small grin, hoping it was an appropriate response. The redhead’s thumb starts rubbing small circles along Ralph’s chin, sending shivers down the blond’s spine. He doesn’t dare break eye contact, instead just stares at the boy as the redhead tries his hardest to make this a sickeningly sweet moment. Jack swipes his thumb over the fair boy’s bottom lip, something meant to be an entirely innocent gesture. But between the drag of skin on skin, rough fingertips tracing chapped lips, and the fact that this is Jack Merridew makes Ralph inhale shakily and close his eyes despite his better judgement. He can practically feel Jack’s smile radiating off of him. 

“Are you actually submitting to me?” Ralph’s eyes snap open quicker than he thought possible and he gives the taller boy the dirtiest look that he can muster. Jack must’ve felt the change in atmosphere between the two, because his forearm sneaks around Ralph’s waist, pulling him close so he doesn’t leave Jack unexpectedly. The fair boy mumbled a complaint before he tugged on the others arm, the redhead just tightening his grip and dropping his head in the space between Ralph’s shoulder and neck. The fair boy can’t help but wince at the chill Jack’s skin brings, even if it’s just his forehead. 

“Jack, that’s a little tight.” The freckled boy mutters something Ralph doesn’t catch before moving his head so that his chin is resting where his forehead once was. Ralph has no idea what Jack’s looking at, but he’s not speaking so he’s clearly wrapped up in it. The fair boy wets his lips before trying to pull back once more, only to be met by another possessive tug closer to Jack. 

“You’re being insufferable, Merridew.” The use of his last name causes Jack to let out a frustrated noise and in one swift movement, he licks Ralph’s neck. The boy yelps in shock, jumping back and out of the redhead’s grip ever so slightly. Very quickly, the blond’s words become a garbled mess of insults and the remnants of surprise, making Jack have to stifle a laugh before wiping down the spot with the palm of his hand. 

“Don’t call me Merridew.” There's a mischievous look in his eyes as he continues to talk. “At night, at least.” He added it so quickly, the fair boy is sure Jack thought it was implied. Which it was. He’d be more open at night, talking to Jack, letting Jack hold him, maybe even letting Jack do other things. Things beyond an innocent grip of the waist and tilt of the chin. He wanted to feel Jack like he felt his suitcase, what felt like forever ago. He wanted to memorize every nook and cranny of Jack’s body, figure out the things that only the redhead knew. But he’d have to wait. Ralph didn’t want this to be a one time thing, where everything left once they finally figured things out. But he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to ask Jack about it.

“Jack? Can I…” 

“Spit it out Allebach.”

“ _CanItouchyou_?” Jack’s head leaves its place quicker than Ralph anticipated, eyes now looking into the fair boy’s. Something has clouded over them, an emotion that mimics desire. Like a never satisfied craving for Ralph just entered his system, clawing at the walls of his brain to be let out. But the redhead kept his composure, giving Ralph a shaky smile before looking back down at the spot he’d been resting. There’s a freckle there, Ralph is fully aware of it. Yet, he still flinches when Jack touches it. 

“Maybe sometime in the future. We need to go to bed before someone sees us.” Ralph tried his hardest to hide the groan that bubbled up in his chest, but it passed through his lips despite his best efforts. Jack snickers, a sound that Ralph has gotten slightly used to over the course of these past weeks. Except this time there’s no ill intention, no harmful teasing behind it. Jack simply laughed. And Ralph never wants to stop hearing it.

  
  
  


/ / /

  
  


Ralph woke up the next morning freezing cold and hating himself. He hated how he let Merridew control him last night, he hated how easily he submitted, he hated the stupid grins and kind words that no one ever spoke to him. Most of all, he hated that it was Jack Merridew. The first person he wanted to kiss, to _touch_ , was Jack Merridew. 

In a fit of sudden fury, he dresses quickly and decides he’s going to talk to Simon. Not about Merridew, he could _never_ talk about Merridew. He promised to himself that he wouldn’t think about the redhead during the day. Not with how much anger, disgust, and bitterness the boy brought to Ralph. No, he could never forgive Jack Merridew. And he didn’t want to. He hated Merridew, he hated the freckles that spewed across his skin in uncontrolled splashes. He hated how piercing his eyes were, how they could make Ralph shake in his shoes and fall to his knees if he really wanted. He hated how arrogant the savage was. If you weren’t on his side, you were wrong and he would make sure you knew it. With physical force or with his words, whatever made you submit the fastest. He hated how Merridew knew exactly what to do to get Ralph riled up, from a slight smirk ghosting against his lips to the hideous laughter that escapes past thin lips as he mocks the fair boy. He hated how Merridew’s pack followed him like hyenas, like this boy was their king, their _chief._ And most of all, he hated how he didn’t really hate any of it. How if he was asked in the right way at the right time, he would do anything the boy asked him to. He’d drop Simon, Peter, Samneric, anyone. Something about Merridew had set a fire in Ralph, burning slowly. There was a bucket right next to him, filled with water to douse the fire. But eventually, one day, Ralph would be engorged by flames. And he wouldn’t even reach for the water. 

  
  
  


/ / /

  
  


Ralph had slowly begun to adapt to the school, which meant he now had a place in the breakfast hall. It was right next to Simon and across from Peter, who was rambling on about a maths assignment. Instead of listening to the pointless talk about exponents, Ralph simply pushes the way-too-rubbery eggs around his plate. It’s like he’s searching for something in the puddle of water the clearly instant scrambled mush has created. 

“Well well well. If it isn’t the Golden Boy.” A shiver is sent down Ralph’s spine, his body temporarily paralyzing at the cold drawl of Merridew’s words. His entire body tenses, reacting in a way that makes it quite obvious to the talented hunters eyes that Ralph is playing defense today. With the twins, Peter, and Simon around the fair boy he doesn’t want to do anything that might get him in trouble. 

Roger, Bill, and an unfamiliar acne covered face stand behind Merridew. It’s all too familiar to Ralph. Hunter to prey. He was always going to be hunted by those with sharp eyesight. Those who would watch his every move like a hawk, circling before the slaughter. He was a field mouse, trying to outsmart the highest predator. 

“Hello Merridew.” He spins in his seat, eyes meeting with the savages. Something is off about them, the icy blue is lacking it’s usual cutthroat spark. Like he doesn’t want to tear into Ralph’s throat, but instead wants to mend the scars that once lay there. Maybe if the events of the night prior hadn't happened, Ralph wouldn’t have noticed the sudden switch. He wouldn’t have seen the lack of violence in Merridew’s eyes. 

The redhead gives him an up and down before spitting on the ground near Ralph’s feet. The blond winces, wondering how he was ever attracted to this boy. All he can do is lower the heat on the steaming hot rage flowing through his veins and give the boy a smug smirk before standing up and leaving the room. Any more time there, they both would’ve done something they both regretted. Whether that be exposing or be violence, Ralph doesn’t want to find out. 

  
  
  


/ / /

  
  


Jack meets Ralph that night at the same time as the day before, in the same empty bathroom. The boy was clearly in a rush, the same ruffled appearance that signifies that this is Jack, not Merridew. For once, Ralph mirrors the redhead’s look. He had fallen asleep, the alarm ring waking the fair boy up out of a deep slumber. He didn’t have time to fix his appearance before rushing into the moon lit bathroom, aching for the touch of Jack. He knows the boy wants to wait, and Ralph knows the redhead is right. 

Upon entering the bathroom, Jack moves as innocently towards Ralph as he can, movements intentionally unbearingly slow. Instead of waiting the torturous 30 seconds, Ralph leans over the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Jack’s watching him and he can tell, the boy’s actions shown right in front of him. The redhead smirks, looking out of the mosaic that decorated the window. 

“I’m sorry. About earlier.” Ralph gives him a look that Jack catches from looking at the fair boy’s reflection. “Spitting at your feet and all.” 

“ ‘S alright. I forgive you. You did say you were more aggressive during the day. I kinda expected it.” Ralph turns the cold metal of the sink handle to the right, cold water spewing out of the tap. He chooses to splash some on his face, using it as a way to wake him up. A part of him wished that his brain wasn’t so foggy at night, otherwise he’d take in all these little details about Jack. 

When he opens his eyes, Jack is standing right beside him, eyes watching his every move. Ralph smiles softly at the boy, who returns the gesture. 

“Y’know. The mosaic is really pretty. But you put it to shame.” 

“Shut up.” Ralph mumbled it subconsciously, a chuckle emerging from Jack. He moves closer, Ralph turning to face the boy, propped up against the sink. The fair boy crossed his arms as Jack leaned against the painfully cold porcelain of the sink, right next to him. He tilted his neck down, breath ghosting on the space right below Ralph’s ear. It sends a chill down the fair boy’s spine as the other plants a soft kiss there. The first romantic touch. The one both of them had been wondering about for so long. The one that they loathed during the day but longed for at night. Ralph just about melts against the sink, clutching onto it for support. He can’t quite tell if Jack’s lips have left, his state too euphoric to comprehend the boy’s actions. He assumes he hasn’t when there’s a twitch of his neck, tilting up to expose more. 

“Jack,” It’s a sad excuse of saying the boy’s name, coming out as more of a garbled mess than the actual word. “Jack you’re gonna leave a _mark.”_ The redhead breaks away for half of a second to respond. 

“That’s… Kind of the point.” 


	11. Expectations

-

-

**_“Cause I could never hold a perfect thing and not demolish it_ **

**_What am I thinking? What does this mean?_ **

**_How could somebody ever love me?”_ **

**_Forever … (Is a long time), Halsey_ **

_ - _

_ - _

Fire.

  
  


Heat.

  
  


Ralph will always return to the burning of a flame. He will always return to the wave of warmth that spreads over his body. Whether that be in its physical form, flames licking the sides of whatever it’s destroying. Swallowing it whole and letting the ash collapse on the ground in a helpless pile. A pile that was once right there, in front of your eyes. Now reduced to something that a reckless kid could kick up with ease whilst chasing their lost basketball down the road. Or whether that be in the form of a person. People like his father, with an iron grip that scorched the skin whenever he grabbed Ralph’s wrist a little too tight and twisted it so that the fair boy would have to face him and take the consequences of his actions. People like Jack Merridew, whose soul was an eternal flame, burning those around him and reducing the humans who could love him, who  _ would  _ love him, to a pile of ash at his feet. He let the flames that he created travel up his body and reach his heart, corrupting the lawful nature that it once knew. Now there was only chaos. A loving burn turned into a sour one. One that left a scar that Ralph would look back upon and wince with pain, eyes brimming with tears that burned as they traveled down his cheeks. 

However, like he always has been since the destructive events of the island. Like he’s been since the time that he was dragged away from Merridew, kicking and screaming because his mind had been a simple candle, melted from the fire that burned inside Jack’s soul. All those nights spent in the horribly empty parlor, eyes watching the flames consume the logs. Closing his eyes and seeing the island once more, smoke billowing out of the trees. He was drawn to the fire. And it was going to be the death of him. Ralph wanted nothing more than to feel the flames flicker on his skin, setting him ablaze. It had been 3 years since he’d seen Merridew. And suddenly his candle wick had been relit. 

  
  


/ / /

  
  


Ralph begun to fall into a horribly dull routine every day. A thick fog had fallen over the campus, most of the students falling asleep in class due to the grey and dreary look outside mixed with the droning of teachers. Even Ralph found himself letting his eyes glaze over and his mind wander to places he never thought he’d be able to find. 

He never actually closed his eyes, keeping some of the current information being taught in the front of his brain just in case he’s asked to answer a question. But he finds the majority of his thoughts preoccupied by Merridew. The boy had only had 3 meetings with Ralph over the course of last week and doesn’t seem to plan on having any more than that. He mentioned it being suspicious if he snuck off every night to the bathroom, as his roommate wasn’t an idiot, so Ralph agreed to only letting himself see Merridew enough times that it isn’t going to raise any questions or furrow any eyebrows. Especially since the redhead had mentioned that the boys who once hunted the blond down were no idiots, they could pick up on the slightest of details so everything had to be calculated with a brain that matched theirs. 

So they set up meeting times. 12 am to 12:30. According to the older boy, a 30 minute water break wasn’t anything that his “friends” would dwell over, seeing as he’d made a reputation for himself in the boys dorm for showering at unnaturally early hours anyways. Not only that, Merridew had also been known to shower multiple times a day. Everything was so perfectly planned and every time he doubted any part of it, Ralph’s eyes would glance over the parchment papers that held Merridew’s scratchy handwriting in the charcoal pencil, drawing out routes in which they could escape from and how they could play off meeting each other in the bathroom at such an ungodly time. Ralph never brought up his nightmares being real and how every time he closed his eyes, vivid images of his limited stay on the island flashed through his brain, plaguing even the deepest corners of his thoughts. Merridew, however, said for him to lie and say he was having a nightmare. Just as Merridew suggested that he lie if anyone pointed out the mark on his neck and say that the redhead had choked him and left a fingerprint. That was easily believable for anyone within listening distance and the older boy even got a clap on the back from Maurice later, who overheard Ralph stutter out the explanation to his friends, and even got him a smirk from Roger. 

Jack, of course, had begun to grow suspicious of what his friends did and didn’t know after a fateful day when Maurice was busy tying his tie around his head in their math class. He had switched seats next to Jack to “compensate” for being next to Ralph. Neither boy had minded since their senses returned to them during daylight and nothing out of the ordinary could be found about either boy. At least that’s what Ralph had assumed about their set of rules that Jack so sternly set at the beginning. But the fair boy had been a tad bit reckless and swiped through paper fast enough to give himself a paper cut. The redhead noticed quickly between the swift slice of paper and Ralph hissing in pain. He had put a sneer on when the fair boy tried putting pressure on his finger. Ralph had expected that. Ralph had expected the downturn of lips and the opening of a mouth to signify that Jack was sick of the fair boy. What he hadn’t expected was the gentle hand that covered his once they were under the safety of the desk. Ralph had to admit that the other boy played an excellent poker face, giving snide glances his way every so often and whispering insults to Maurice, who laughed a little too loud. But just the small movements of Jack rubbing his finger against the back of Ralph’s hand sent him in a downward spiral. He couldn’t concentrate on the math problems in front of him, zoning out as soon as the teacher started talking. All he could focus on was the soft finger tracing his skin. That’s when Maurice joked about Ralph sitting closer to Jack than he normally was. And the boy wasn’t wrong, the blond’s head was going to lean on the others shoulder, only inches away. 

“Ew what the fuck Allebach? Back off before I don’t give you another chance to do so.” 

And so Ralph did. He gently moved his seat further away from Jack and let the warmth that radiated from his fire leave him behind. Ever since then, Merridew hasn’t made any romantic gesture to Ralph during the day and has permanently turned his seat to Maurice, ignoring the blond boy no matter what he does. 

  
  
  


/ / /

  
  


“Oi Ralph! You-”

“-look tense!” Ralph smiled at the two twins, who had mischievous smirks plastered over both of their faces. They shared a glance before Eric opened his mouth to speak again. “Well we thought that we might be able to help! There’s a bunch of ways to loosen up around here. Weed being a big one. Maybe we could hook you up with a pretty lass.” Ralph felt his face scrunch up in just the slightest way. A way that if you had been looking at him for long enough, you’d notice. If you hadn’t, it would slip by even the sharpest of eyes. 

“Well I appreciate both of your efforts, but finding someone... isn’t really in my plans right now.” The lie slid over his tongue and coated it with hot misery but he pressed on. “I have an essay to complete and my math teacher is most certainly going to assign a plethora of online problems for solving tonight. Perhaps… another time?” 

“Oh come on Ralphie, the entire female population is buzzin’ with joy because of the hot new boy. I’m sure any and every one of them would be willing to get nice ‘n comfy with ya!” Ralph sent Sam a glare that could weaken even the bravest of men, slamming the cover of his Statistics textbook shut. Simon and Peter, who had just walked in on the conversation, gave the twins an equally dirty glare before taking their seats in the cafeteria. 

“That’s very lovely of them and I feel very flattered. But no thank you and I’ll be on my way.” Ralph knew that getting up and leaving now was going to leave a bitter taste on the twins tongues but he couldn’t stay for much longer. A skilled set of eyes were watching him, waiting for the final move that could be the killing blow. Any vulnerable position so he could sink his teeth into Ralph’s neck and watch him bleed out on the floor. 

Jack Merridew was watching him from across the cafeteria, ears perked up as if he could hear the conversation. Ralph was sure he’d get hell for it later, but in the moment all he could think about was the prickling feeling that made the hair on his neck stand up as a hunter analyzed his every move.

  
  


/ / /

  
  


“What the hell Ralph? Are they trying to get you  _ laid?”  _

“I don’t know Jack! If I knew what the twins were up to, I’d confront them and tell them that I’m not ready for that! My response was good enough, don’t you think?!” 

“No Ralph! It’s not! Because…” Ralph crossed his arms as Jack stumbled over his words. “Because I don’t want to lose you.” 

Jack sunk to the floor, his face held in his hands as Ralph’s brain processed the words that just passed through pale lips. They weren’t bitter words, like the kind Jack uses when he's teasing him. They weren’t malicious words, like when Jack has to fake his hatred. They were genuine words. And they made Ralph shake where he stood by their sheer power. 

The fair boy never noticed it before, but now everything was crystal clear. Like when you take your sleeve to wipe off the condensation on a bus window to try and catch a glimpse of the outdoors. He had finally caught that glimpse. Jack would move mountains, he would part seas, he would rebuild the galaxy for Ralph and couldn’t find the right words to actually say it. 

Ralph slowly but surely moved over to Jack’s place, sinking down the same wall the redhead had minutes earlier. The fair boy had never been good at romance. He’d never been willing to make anything work. He never looked at anyone and thought that maybe he could find a home in their eyes. A home in their heart. But he was willing to try for Jack. While he hadn’t seen it before, Jack had all the pieces to build a castle. He just needed an extra hand. 

Ralph moved his fingers to gently trace Jack’s jawline, fingertips dancing along pale skin, making the redhead remove his hands from his face. He didn’t look at the fair boy, just stared up at the ceiling and let Ralph do whatever he pleased. 

“Jack?” The boy hummed in response, tilting his head so their eyes finally meet. “I- I know that this is difficult. And I know that we were pretty much doomed from the start…But ever since the island I thought that I couldn’t be loved. I thought that I was a lost cause, someone who was too broken to be fixed so I simply had to be thrown out and replaced. I believe my father thought the same thing. I don’t think he wanted me to be the same Ralph I once was. He wanted me to be a whole new Ralph. One that didn’t wake up at night screaming. One that found a pretty girl and whisked her away to a chapel, claiming she was the love of my life. I think he wanted a son who would eventually vow himself to a wife that would change him. But I don’t want to get married in a chapel. I want to get married somewhere that’s so far away from the past that the only thing I’ll be able to see is the future.” 

Jack’s eyes flickered to Ralph’s lips before the redhead’s mouth turned up into a soft, lazy grin. Jack leans in ever so slightly, chin tilting towards Ralph. It’s just now that the blond is taking in every single detail of Jack Merridew. Between the height difference to the different shades of blue their eyes are. He sees everything. “Well I suppose then you should find a lovely lady to wed, shouldn’t you Mr. Allebach?”

“Yes I suppose I should.”


	12. The Hunger of a Beast

-

-

**_“I just wanna make you laugh, I just wanna see that smile_ **

**_Babe we’re only here, for a little while._ **

**_I just wanna hold you till we fall asleep,_ **

**_I want love, I want us, I want you, I want me, I want peace”_ **

**_Peace, O.A.R._ **

_ - _

_ - _

Ralph hated how Jack Merridew made him so weak. He had spent years building up walls the height of skyscrapers so nobody could ever hurt him again. He’d grown up with all of the windows covered by curtains, all of the walls shrouded in darkness with only the light of candles giving him the freedom to move without bumping into objects. He would notice every little detail because of how long he’d spent trapped. Melted wax dripped down the side of a perfectly straight candlestick, the way his fathers footsteps echoed when he was angry and the way that they became silent when he didn’t want to disturb Ralph. Ralph noticed how whenever he walked into his fathers office, the atmosphere changed from happy to lucky to mourning. His father was mourning the loss of his perfect son. Ralph noticed how the maids would make sure that they never got too close, always keeping at least 4 feet of distance. He was no longer treated like a person, more of a burden. Even the house creaked and groaned wherever he set foot, as if the weight of his past was too much for the wood to bear. He could see shoulders sag whenever he opened a door, from either sympathy or regret. Even his childhood best friends had decided that there was no need in their life for a boy who couldn’t figure out his own. He’d spent all his time thinking of himself as an illness, trying to right the wrong that he knew he was. And when he was finally faced with someone who could love him, who  _ would _ love him, he was forced to flee and keep it hidden away. Because God forbid he wasn’t perfect in everyone else’s eyes except his own. 

It’s now, with the moonlight being the only thing that lit up one side of Ralph’s face that he realized that he might not be alone. He had to play his life like a game of chess. Calculating every move ever so perfectly so he wouldn’t lose. And up until recently, he had been relying on his own mind to do it. However, once you throw another brain into the mix and you see moves that perhaps you’d never even thought about before. You play together, strategizing so neither one of you has to lose. Jack was that other brain. As much as he put Ralph through hell, as much as his friends hated Ralph and spat at his feet, as much as they simply wouldn’t work together, the fair boy cared about Jack more than he’d ever cared about anyone. And it filled him up with hatred, anger, and utter disdain for Jack Merridew. He felt like he was a prisoner in his own head, clawing at the walls to get out but only to be shoved back into shackles. 

Over the course of the week, teachers began to pile on homework and extra credit, all to prepare the students for the semester tests that were creeping around the corner. Between the amount of math he had to do, balanced with history, science and the gym physical, Ralph couldn’t help but feel like his head was going to explode at the least convenient time. He knew that he was overworking himself, but this was how he’d conditioned himself to live since the island. Pile everything on until he mentally can’t take it and has a snap. The last time he’d broken, he lit the fireplace up and let the flames dry the tears off of his cheeks. Now he wouldn’t have that comfort and would have to fend for himself. That was only if he had a snap. 

A knock on his door made him jump, almost slamming the top of his laptop shut. The woman he met so long ago, who reminded Ralph so much of her son, gently opened the door, a soft smile on her face. She’s obviously cautious and Ralph can’t tell what it is, but something is off. 

“Ralph darling are you doing anything?”

“No ma’am. I was simply working on the extra credit from math.”

“Oh lovely.” The woman walks in, a man following. The man looked exactly like Merridew, from the hair colour to the sneer that decorated his face once he entered the fair boy’s living space. Ralph can’t imagine that this isn’t an important visit, because of how uncomfortable Mrs. Martin looks. If it was up to Ralph, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere near someone he’d fallen out of love with enough to go to court to break the relationship. 

“Mr. Merridew is here to do an assessment of the room and how you’re feeling about your classes. He's my superior so be as kind as you can be. I’ll be waiting outside of the door for you two to finish and everything will be confidential, but obviously not anonymous. Don’t be afraid to speak your mind.” The way the woman spoke was so robotic that Ralph had to wonder if he was the last kid that they were going through. She smiled at Ralph as she exited, the same red lipstick on her lips that she always wore. It was like a light in a dark room. Because now he was left alone with the father of the boy he was terrified of more than anything. His father held the same atmosphere as Jack. Powerful and clearly in charge. 

“Ralph Allebach. You’re the final boy from the island to come here. And my least favourite. However, this questionnaire is taken with personal opinions set aside. How do you feel about the classes you’re in right now and the teaching techniques?”

“I…”

  
  


. . .

  
  


_ He argued unconvincingly that they would let him alone, perhaps even make an outlaw out of him. But then the fatal unreasoning knowledge came to him again. The breaking of the conch and the deaths of Piggy and Simon lay over the island like a vapor. These painted savages would go further and further. Then there was that indefinable connection between himself and Jack; who therefore would never leave him alone; never. _

_ He paused, sun-flecked, holding up a bough, prepared to duck under it. A spasm of terror set him shaking and he cried aloud. _

_ “No. They're not as bad as that. It was an accident.” _

  
  


. . .

  
  


Ralph found himself in the nurse's office with no memory of the interview at all. Just Mr. Merridew standing over him with Mrs. Martin pacing frantically by his opposite side. He bolted up almost immediately, panting as he usually did when these nightmares came and went. His entire body felt hot, the painted faces of the savages lingering in his memory. Words became sludge on his tongue as he leaned forward, breathing so heavily that he began to feel lightheaded. 

“Ralph! Are you okay? You just zoned out in the middle of the interview then collapsed on the floor. Is this normal? Should we call an ambulance?”

“Lay off of him Belle. He clearly had a traumatic memory. The boy does have PTSD on his health files and we shouldn’t be fussing over him in case we overwhelm the poor boy.” 

“Well maybe you won’t be but in case you haven’t realized, we are not equipped to deal with PTSD here.” Ralph mumbled incoherent words, catching the attention of the two arguing adults. In all honesty, he had no idea what he just said but with two sets of eyes now locked on him, he felt his face go hot and the room warm up. 

“I’m quite alright. This is something that happens every so often. I’m sorry if I caused you any worry.” Both grown adults look at him, one with intense worry and the other with a blank look, like Ralph had just proposed that the whole scenario hadn’t even happened and they had both imagined the fair boy’s nightmare. Instead of saying something, like he looked like he was on the verge of doing, Mr. Merridew thanked Ralph for his time and said he collected everything he needed. He then spun on his heel, hand reaching for the metal handle of the door. Instead of his force opening it, the door slammed open so quickly that the man almost got smacked in the face. Ralph is slammed in a hug by someone and before he can even register who, he wrapped his arms around their body, feeling them sob into his shoulder. Ralph’s neck is bent at an uncomfortable angle, the only thing visible being the ceiling of the dreary nurses office. The heat of the persons body is radiating into him, warming him to his core and making him feel undeniably safe. It has to be Simon. 

Ralphs prediction was right and when the boy pulled away he’s met with the tear stained face of Simon Cortés. “Ralph you’re okay! They just told us that you had fainted and when you didn’t show up for dinner I thought it was because of inspections but it obviously wasn’t and you should’ve seen how quickly we were up and here. Can I get you anything? Water? Food?” The fair boy shook his head no, looking behind Simon to see Peter, Sam and Eric all looking more relieved than Ralph would like them to be. He didn’t want people to worry about him, especially not people he cared about so deeply. He couldn’t stand to see them worry over him, especially when he should be dead. All those years ago he should’ve died. With the hot sand scorching his back, sweat pouring down his forehead making his bangs stick uncomfortably, sticky blood spilling into his hands making his fingers attach to each other . He’s a walking corpse. Just as much as Simon or Piggy is.

“Thank you Simon. And to the rest of you. I appreciate the visit.” One of the twins, Ralph had never been great about figuring out which one was which, smiled back at him before Simon stepped aside slightly, letting the smaller boy run into the other’s prior place and wrap his arms around Ralph’s neck. The fair boy had no idea what to do, just awkwardly patted his back in an attempt to comfort him. 

“Sam’s been worried sick about ya. Something ‘bout seeing Merridew stalk the halls with a vicious glare in his eyes, clenched fists, ya know the whole 9.” Mrs. Martin and Mr. Merridew shared a glance that Ralph saw out of the corner of his eyes. Both adults were now very clearly worried at the mention of their son. “Threatened a couple kids along the way. Jus’ a real hotheaded bloke recently. Figured we’d pay a visit so Sam doesn’t lose his marbles worrying ‘bout whether Merridew made it to ya first..” Sam released Ralph before helping him to his feet and only now does Ralph see the real difference in the twins. Different marks on their faces made them easy to tell apart, but that was if you knew which one had which freckles. But Sam’s eyes are softer than Eric’s. His words have less of a drawl to them and he certainly worried about people much more. Perhaps he was simply more scared of the savages than he was worried about Ralph. 

Mrs. Martin clapped her hands together, making everyone in the room look at her. She’d established authority with a simple gesture, every body automatically reacting the way it had been trained to react to someone in charge. “Okay boys. Mr. Merridew, Simon and I will walk Ralph to his dorm. You three can walk back to yours together. If anybody runs across Jack Merridew or any one of those boys and gets injured, please come to us immediately and we will deal with the situation. Alright?”

A chorus of ‘yes ma’am’ followed the woman’s request, Sam helping Ralph into his feet again. He waved the younger boy’s move to support him off, not wanting to appear weak for once in this entire situation. 

It’s Peter who sets the boys and adults into action with simply his words. “God I have an awful feeling about this.”

  
  
  


/ / /

  
  


Peter’s prediction is, in fact, right. Once Ralph entered his horribly dark room, bidding the people who helped him arrive safely goodnight, he took a step backwards and walked right into a solid object that should not be there. A breathing object. A person. There was another human being in his dorm, and their arms had trapped him in place, having grabbed his outer biceps and grounded Ralph in place. All he could feel was breath on his neck. For a situation that should be terrifying, the fair boy was so oddly at ease. If this was where his story ended and the final page of his book was written, so be it. He would much rather die here than someplace where nobody would ever find him. 

But the arms slowly moved from his arms to his hands and it finally clicked in his brain. Only 2 people actually knew. Mrs. Martin was one of the people who knew the location of his dorm. Mrs. Martin and Jack Merridew. So Ralph interlaced their fingers, looking down at freckled splotched skin which only proved what he had been thinking. 

“Merridew I heard that you weren’t exactly the prettiest flower in the patch today.”

“Who the fuck uses an analogy like that? I’ve literally never heard that in my life. Something messed up in your head?” Ralph hummed in response before answering the other boy’s question.

“I use analogies like that. Now what happened earlier. Were you really that much of a pain in the-” Ralph stopped himself short before the word flew out of his mouth, free hand going up to clasp over his lips. But Jack had heard it and was now staring at him mischievously, eyebrows raised like Ralph had just said something that was so utterly controversial it could fear countries apart. And even worse the look on his face said that he agreed. 

“Continue.”

“No. Tell me about what you did today. I highly doubt you just stalked around the halls with that big and mighty attitude of yours. So which kid got a fist to the face? Percival? Max? Just some random passerby who looked atcha funny while I rested in the nurse's office?” 

“Careful Allebach, your rich boy façade is slipping. Starting to sound more like the rest of us with you and your ‘atcha’.” Ralph snorted, trying to ignore the fact that Jack was right. Just being around these boys had made him slip into the tone of speech he used back on the island. So casual, as if the weight of his words didn’t matter. As if they couldn’t make even the kindest people hate him more than anything.

“And to answer your question it was some random kid who looked at me a little too long. Had some anger to burn off. He’s fine now, just a little bit of blood from his nose. He’ll be just fine.” 

“Mmmm. Good. Don’t go around hurting people because you’ve been having a bad day though. It isn’t healthy.” Ralph plopped down in the wooden chair that leaned into his desk, legs sprawled out. For the first time, he didn’t care about how Jack saw him. The redhead had seen Ralph crying and begging for mercy, being a little improper didn't really bother him anymore. 

Jack slowly walked over to him, moving like he used to when he was hunting Ralph. The freckled boy placed a hand in between Ralph’s thighs, nails digging into the chair. Any closer to Ralph’s body and he’d be touching the fair boy in a way that would make him get up and leave. But Jack didn’t seem to have that intention. His other arm tilted Ralph’s chin up so he had to face the boy. Just the proximity of Jack and where he chose to rest his hand is enough to make Ralph swallow roughly, body going hot with curiosity. 

“You need something Merridew?” The redhead clicks his tongue, moving Ralph’s face forward ever so slightly with a little pull.

“Still the same stuck up boy you used to be.” And for the first time since this endeavor started, for the first time since they’d begun the horrible flirting, the late nights, neither boy could hold it in anymore. The tension was too much, driving Jack about as insane as it was making Ralph. Jack’s lips crashed onto Ralph’s, the beast that laid inside both of them finally having it’s hunger satisfied since both boys stepped foot off of the island.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little longer and i’m very sorry about that- I really didn’t mean for it to be like that but here we are I suppose


End file.
